


Just Our Luck

by loserbumblebee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Developing Friendships, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hogwarts, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff, Slytherin Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26600014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loserbumblebee/pseuds/loserbumblebee
Summary: You are a fifth year Slytherin from a prestigious and well known family. Not a big talker, introverted, and seemingly invisible. You figured you would flit through your years at Hogwarts - even if you didn't have many friends. And for five years, you did just that. Until a chance encounter with the Weasley twins completely changes your whole life. You had your share of crushes and casual hookups, but nothing like George Weasley. It would be just your luck.*Big apologies for the extended pause in updates! Plan to be more active again! Thanks for the support & love!*
Relationships: Blaise Zabini/Reader, George Weasley/Reader, George Weasley/You
Comments: 12
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

It would be just your luck, wouldn’t it? 

For once, you were attempting to study. In fact you woke up even earlier than you normally would. You’d gotten up, gotten dressed in a gray knit sweater and your green pleated skirt, and opened up a book with a quill in hand. You’d even made it to the Great Hall bright and early to have a quiet breakfast - the only break you planned out between studying. 

Yet, here you were, walking out the hall that was now filled with other students. A dull roar echoed behind you, bouncing off the walls of the corridor. You even looked the part, with your hair tied up into a neat bun. You were nearly out to the courtyard with your books gathered against your chest. You had planned to go and study on such a nice cool autumn morning. Especially since it was a Saturday. So close to the door - you had almost made it. 

You had nobody to wait for either. It was just you. You’re a rather quiet girl so that was to be expected. What hadn’t been expected was to have the wind knocked out of you just before your palm pressed open the door. All of a sudden, a gust of wind? You couldn’t tell but you were knocked clean onto the floor. You felt yourself land with a dull thud. 

Confused by this bizarre situation, you sat, bewildered and looked around. Then down at yourself. A piece of your sweater was now torn and singed, smoke dissipated off it. Almost as if a massive cigarette had been put out on it.  _ What in the bloody hell? _ You looked around again.  _ What was that?  _ You analyzed your current dilemma, deducting that something had to have hit you. But what? 

A group of students rallied around you. You could feel the heat in your cheeks start to smother the rest of your face.  _ Mortifying _ . Though you knew that they all meant well and concerned mutters were being exchanged amongst them. Finally an older girl, who you recognized as a Hufflepuff seventh year, came forward. She extended a hand for you to take. “You alright, (y/n)?” You nod with a half smile, grabbing her hand, and getting to your feet. You begin to shake the ashy remains off you. You thank her for the helping hand and she smiles warmly at you.

You were interrupted by two loud voices emerging through the small barrier of students. “Alright, alright -” One voice calling, amusement high in his voice. “Move along!” Another similar voice finished out the command. A couple of Ravenclaws parted to allow them through. You look up, confused, as the Weasley twins approached you. They were Gryffindors, just a year older than you.  _ What could they want? _ You’d never had a real interaction with the pair. In fact, you hardly knew any of the Weasleys. Maybe because of the year gap or maybe because you belonged to the Slytherin house. Or maybe, because you were rather quiet and kept to yourself. Whatever the reason, this was your first real moment with them.  _ Maybe they’re just being nosy?  _

One of them looked you up and down whilst the other examined the ash on the floor. “You all right, (y/n)?” You were surprised he knew your name. Then again, you did know them so it wasn’t that strange. You nodded, crossing your arms over your stomach where the fraying sweater had exposed your skin. “She looks alright, George,” the other chided in a cheerful tone. You looked between the two, still awfully confused. 

“Well, we’re sorry this happened-”

“Yeah, it was a malfunction. Our motive wasn’t to target you.”

“Honestly.”

You alternated your eye contact between the two red heads as each speaks. You gaped for a moment, not understanding what in Godrick’s name they were going on about. Some first meeting. They hadn’t even bothered to introduce themselves. You shook your head and stopped their outpour of apologies. “Er sorry,” you interjected, “but what in the hell are you talking about?”

This silenced them. They exchanged a look between each other. Their lips both melted into amused smiles. One of them chuckled. You weren’t sure who was Fred and who was George. “(Y/N) - we’ve both heard what a smart girl you are. Surely you know what we’re talking about?” Your cheeks reddened deeply, like blooming roses on your face.  _ Smart girl? Where did they hear that?? _ You shook your head, tightening the grip of your fingers over your abdomen. They shared a glance and then laughed. “Our fireworks - this was a misjudgment on our part. Why, we were aiming for Professor Snape!” 

Well, now this whole perplexing situation became very clear.  _ Oh. _ As if your cheeks had a never ending well of red paint, your face burned.  _ This is so awkward. _ You stepped back for a moment. Your eyes darted between the twins, your burned sweater, and heat radiating from your stomach. You winced slightly and removed your hand, glancing down at your stomach. There was a grotesque cluster of melted and bloodied skin. Now that the mystery had been solved, the pain set in.  _ Great. So much for studying. _

As soon as you had noticed the injury, so had they. Their smirking faces dropped to a more genuine, solemn expression. What more, this was your favorite sweater. Between the embarrassment, the pain starting to intensify, and then your favorite sweater - you could feel anger swelling in your chest. The red your face flushed out. Overwhelmed, the rage started to swarm within you. You may have been a rather introverted person, but anybody who knew you knew to heed caution to your untamable temper. You felt stuck between yelling or maybe crying from how flustered you felt. You gritted your teeth. “You burned my favorite sweater.”

You knew that was petty. Beyond petty. But that didn’t particularly matter to you at that moment. The twins looked conflicted. You imagined they wanted to laugh, yet there was some leftover concern for your newfound wound. One of them stepped toward you, his face set finally on concern, “Here, let me help you to Madam Pomfrey’s-” You withdrew from his extended hand, knowing you were far too flustered to accept any help. “You’ve done enough.” You snapped and pushed past them. You launched yourself down the hall with long strides.

Behind you, you could hear both of them confused and a bit frustrated. “She looks pretty upset, George. We can go visit her later - maybe she’ll cool off.” You hoped they wouldn’t. It would be even more embarrassing to apologize about your outburst. You knew you weren’t making such a great impression. 

It would be just your luck.


	2. Chapter 2

It’d been a couple of days since you had gotten hit with the malfunctioning firework. You had kept an eye out - expecting to see the twins pop up to try to make amends with you. Shockingly, they hadn’t kept their work the way you had heard them speak of. It was a relief. Now that you had time to reflect, your anger had stemmed from a childish place and you were not ready to apologize to them either. So their absence was convenient. 

You laid in your bed, trying your hardest to read your book. Your squib aunt sent you classic literature every month. This was Dracula. You couldn’t focus on it despite really wanting to. Your aunt took great care in her selections and your negligence of the novel made you feel deeply guilty. It was also hard to keep up if you fell behind before the next package came. You were pretty lucky to have an aunt who did this. You enjoyed muggle literature. But lying in your bed, staring at the page blank pages, you felt restless. You sighed and readjusted yourself, leading the book open on your chest. 

You could hear your fellow Slytherins rallying in the common room. It sounded like a couple of them were laughing about something. The noise ensured that you would not be getting anywhere with this chapter. You dogeared the edge of the page and set it beside you. You drummed your fingers against your stomach where your injury had once blistered and pulsed. Madam Pompfrey had assured you that it was an easy fix. She was correct. There was a little pink fleshy scar but it didn’t hurt.  _ Thank Merlin I’m a witch. _

Antsy yet uninspired, you sat up. You should at least eat. You knew you wouldn’t happen to fall asleep randomly and it was dinner time, after all. Classes had been far too easy anyways. You’d already completed the assigned homework. You heaved yourself out of bed with a lazy grumble. You snagged Dracula, just in case. It wasn’t like you had anybody to really talk to. Especially at the Slytherin table. Not that anybody was particularly mean to you. You just fit so well in the shadows, at least that was what you expected. You were never the end of a joke or bullying. Well, not until the Weasley twins little stunt. But even that, had not been intentional. 

You dragged your feet as you made your way out of the Slytherin common room, smiling at the other students who laughed so loud. They greeted you back and went back to their devices. Even in your own house, you were pretty invisible. You didn’t mind, though. You did plenty fine on your own. 

You had managed your first five years here just fine - on your own. Besides, that was all that had mattered to your parents. Aloof, former Slytherins who just wanted their daughter to succeed in academics. Your family were highly powerful wizards. Aside from your aunt, who possessed no magic. She had little contact with your family. Just you. You pushed your family from your head as your heels clicked along the corridor. 

You picked up your pace when your stomach growled. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until then.  _ Hm. Good thing to eat then. _ Your quick steps were halted when you heard your name being called not too far behind you. The unfamiliar greeting made you freeze. It wasn’t often people called out your name. “Hey, (Y/N)! Wait up a moment, will you?” Your head turned, whipping your hair over your shoulder. It was a redheaded Gryffindor. A Weasley twin. You weren’t sure which though. You waited for him to catch up to you. That didn’t take long as his long legs offered him long strides. 

Soon, he stood beside you. “I’ve been wondering when I’d see you!” Curious, you mused. It was strange to see a singular twin when they were so commonly together. You wondered why that might be. 

“Well here I am.” You stated back plainly, as if your previous run in was well behind you. You had cooled off and since forgiven them. It was an accident. “It’s your lucky day.”

“Apparently.” His lips formed a crooked grin and he chuckled. Then his face sobered. “Look, I am really sorry that happened. With the Triwizard Tournament and all the excitement, I think we got ahead of ourselves. Fred is sorry too.”

“Oh, well, yes. That’s okay. I get it. High energy around school,” You smiled at him convincingly. So this was George. You detailed his face, looking for anything that might give them some individuality. 

“I am also insanely sorry about your favorite sweater,” he looked at you and it was clear he was genuinely sorry. You had shrugged that off too. His lips curled into a smile again. “I’m even sorrier than my mum found out. She threw a whole fit about it.”

“Oh-oh,” you stammered, taken aback. “Sorry if I upset your mum.” 

“Please accept my apology. She’ll have Fred and I’s heads if you don’t. She thinks we’re here torturing girls.”

You laughed. It was a very sweet gesture of his mother. You continued to scan his face, noticing a stray freckle just beside his nose. You committed it to memory. Sure, maybe you wouldn’t apologize outright but the least you could do was learn who was who. “Oh fine, fine. I’ll help you out then.”

“Excellent. You’re really saving my ass.” He was grinning from ear to ear. It was charming, you had to admit it. But you figured after this odd encounter that you would soon enough be roaming the halls alone. Small moments like these were nice anyways. You both walked, side-by-side, down the hall. It was weird. You had assumed he would break off from you now that you had granted your forgiveness to him. Instead, he walked beside you casually. You wondered why.  _ Hmm… _

“You’re headed to dinner too, right?” He asked, breaking up your thoughts. You nodded. You were quickly approaching the Great Hall. “Great. Otherwise this would probably be weird.” His face was split into a grin again and you laughed. You liked the tone in his voice when he was kidding. He sounded so confident. Like he knew you’d laugh. Of course, you did. 

You reached the doors to the Great Hall and began to walk through. You figured he would part ways with you know. You looked at him to say goodbye, but he intercepted it. “D’you want to sit with us?” He motioned towards the Gryffindor table. Fred was there already, sitting beside Lee Jackson, Katie Bell, and Angelina Johnson. The twin had an amused look on his face when he saw you and George feet apart.  _ Weird. _

You weren’t sure what to say. On one hand, it wasn’t as if anybody was waiting for you over at the Slytherin table. On the other hand, you were a  _ Slytherin _ . A small part of you pushed for you to say yes. This was an opportunity to talk to other students. Besides, George seemed like he actually wanted you to. “Wouldn’t that be wrong? Since I’m a Slytherin? Should I ask?” You never cared much to upset your professors. 

“(Y/N), come on. It’ll be fine. Nobody will even notice.” He was chuckling, the corners of his eyes crinkled. You were hesitant. A bit of a goody-two shoes, honestly. If you weren’t, your parents would hear of it and that was never a fun time. They hardly ever had to be involved. You preferred it that way. It seemed he registered your concern because he softened, only slightly. “Come on, hey? It’s better to ask for forgiveness than it is for permission.” He paused a moment, watching your face. “Live a little!”

“Oh, fine.” You followed after him shakily. You were suddenly very nervous. You weren’t particularly gifted in making conversations - or friends, for that matter. But George’s earnest smile drew you in. If he could do it, why couldn’t you? As you approached the table, you could hear laughter from the cluster of Gryffindors. Still uneasy, you hoped you could relax, and very soon. 

George sat beside Fred. The other three sat across from the twins. He motioned for you to sit beside him, leaving you to sit across from Angelina. You were prepared for some aggression, or at least to be cast aside. Her face lit up instead. You were so surprised, you nearly jumped back. She introduced herself warmly, then introducing Katie and Lee. You could hardly contain your shock. You still managed to, though. “You must be (Y/N),” she continued, unaware of your internal delight. “We heard what Fred and George did to you. Got any cool battle scars?”

Warmth poured into you and you laughed. You felt almost giddy. This was the best interaction you had since you got to Hogwarts. You began to tell her about the soft pink scar left over on your stomach. Instantly, you relaxed. George peered over at you with a smile.  _ They did make this all worthwhile _ . Perhaps the malfunction was really lucky after all. 


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning you assumed the role of the invisible girl again. Dinner with the Gryffindors had been marvelous. You laughed so hard you nearly spit out your drink. It’d be the first time you’d gotten to connect with peers at Hogwarts. You rode that high until you woke up. You calculated the potential that might ever happen again as you walked to breakfast. It was highly unlikely, you figured. It was nice anyways. 

You had been so excited and giddy last night you hardly slept. To quell this hyperactivity, you had finished the entirety of Dracula. This left you with no novels to distract yourself with as you ate. You sighed and wrapped your arms over your chest defensively as you walked. Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw girl in the same year as you, flitted past you with her usual gaggle of friends. Normally Cho might smile at you or simply walk past. But today she and her friends hushed each other and giggled as they walked by. Their hushed whispers were out of your earshot but you could make out “ _ Weasley twins … (Y/N) … Gryffindor … Slytherin… Wealthy family... Her parents would… Blaise Zabini said- _ ”. 

Once you caught wind that it was obvious they were making remarks about you, you glanced up. It was too early for this. If they pissed you off, it would only revv your temper up in the blink of an eye. You made direct eye contact with Cho. Instantly she pursed her lips, looking guilty. Then she looked apologetic. You wondered if she was sorry to be talking about you or sorry that you had heard. Your expression must have conveyed some betrayal because she looked away. Not that you two were friends. You just both had an understanding and a brisk friendly acknowledgement of each other. 

You frown. A prick of insecurity made you hold yourself tighter.  _ What could she be saying about me?  _ You hardly did anything. You recall she mentioned your family and their status. Has something happened? Should you expect an owl from your parents? What would the Weasley twins have to do with that anyways? 

Furthermore, what the hell had Blaise said? Your history with him had been short, sweet, and simple. You and Blaise had been casually hooking up over the summer. It was nothing of substance for you. Mostly to pass the time. Besides, he was a decent shag. You had both established not wanting anything serious. He would sneak in your window, you would do the deed, and then he’d leave. He hardly ever hung back. Every once in a while to talk. You found him to be incredibly arrogant.  _ Annoying. What could he possibly be saying?  _

Your mind walked itself through all the different reasons that Cho Chang would be talking about you. You shrugged it off as you entered the Great Hall. She loved a good gossiping session and you were fairly certain it would die with her. She would quickly move on to the next slightly entertaining thing. As you approached your typical spot at the Slytherin table, you noticed small groups of students fell silent and watched as you walked past. That was unusual. Normally nobody even raised their head to look at you.

An uneasy feeling gnawed at your stomach. You got this far without any issues - why now? You had begun to seat yourself as you were interrupted: “So, you’d rather a Weasley than me?” Blaise glared heatedly at you. He stepped between you and your designated seat. “I thought you were better than that, (Y/N).” He eyed you up and down with an angered look, although his analysis of you was almost pervasive. 

Your stomach dropped. You were so confused. You hadn’t done anything with the Weasley twins. Hell, you’d only even hung around them once. “I thought you were a nice girl, you know. A nice girl from a proper family. Hmph. It’s too bad you’re a slut.” He sneered, his face inches from yours. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You are so easy, you threw yourself all over me. No wonder you would even open your legs for poor, dingy losers too.”

Sure, you have slept with Blaise. But threw yourself at him?  _ Merlin.  _ On top of that, you hadn’t slept with anybody since Blaise the week before school. Certainly not George, or Fred, or even their younger brother Ron. Most definitely not Ginny either. You couldn’t piece together where he had gathered this narrative. Even if you could, he had the whole Slytherin and Ravenclaw watching his spectacle. He had placed you as the main event.

What a terrible mistake. 

You froze for just a moment. A moment of cold, sobering silence. You could make a scene. You could feel the rage growing deep in the pit of your stomach, erasing any uneasiness. That temper of yours had a mind of its own. You considered your options, clutching your wand in your pocket. If you attacked Blaise, you could expect a very threatening letter from your parents. The school would have to contact them and undoubtedly, so would the Zabinis. You weighed that factor heavily against beating his arrogant ass.

“Oh, I’m sorry Blaise,” Your face hardened coldly. “Did you get the impression that I actually  _ enjoyed  _ it with you? It was just too small - somebody has to tell you before you go around disappointing other girls.” That was a blatant lie. You had no idea how to defend yourself from the word ‘slut’. Your fist tightened around your wand, all but trembling in your rage. Before it could even leave your pocket, you felt a gentle but firm grip on your shoulder. 

You looked up and Angelina was at your side. She must have been watching this nightmare unfold. “Don’t do something you’ll regret, (Y/N). Let’s go.” You were amazed that she could sense your next move. You allowed her to take you by the hand and followed hotly behind her. Blaise’s eyes didn’t leave you. You could hear him mutter something under his breath but you didn’t dare look back. You knew you’d kick his ass. You felt several eyes on you. Your cheeks lit up, they radiated heat. 

Once you both had secured yourselves in the hall, she looked at you. “You okay? What a git.” You nodded and grounded yourself back into reality. You were yet again perplexed, pissed, mortified, and flustered. You leaned into the wall and crossed your arms over your chest. “You like you’re going to cry (Y/N)-” 

“Yeah, I know. I tend to get pretty worked up when I’m angry.”

“Oh, I was just making sure.”

“Thank you. And thanks for covering me in there. I was about to hex him to the moon.”

“What’re friends for?” As she said that, that same feeling of warmth washed over you. Of course this was a shitty situation, but at least she considered you a friend. Apparently a friend worth coming to the rescue for. You smiled at her, grateful she had stepped in. Who knew what your parents might’ve done if you had actually hexed Blaise.

“Angelina,” You said softly, “I haven’t slept with any of the Weasleys. The last person I slept with  _ was  _ Blaise. What in the  _ hell  _ was he even talking about?”

“Well…” She looked hesitant, then sympathetic. “I don’t want to upset you, but I did hear some other students talking about you and the twins. Supposedly somebody is spreading around that you slept with one of them. Which I don’t understand, why would anybody make that up?”

“I have no idea,” Your voice reflected your own confusion. Perhaps Blaise had been spreading the rumors. Then again, you understood what Cho had been whispering about. “Last night was the first time I had practically talked to any of you.” 

“Word on the street is that you have quite the track record with boys here.”

“Not really…” Outside of Blaise, you’d slept with one other student. A Hufflepuff who had since transferred to America’s Wizarding School. Only Blaise knew that. You were certain that it was him talking shit now. You felt another wave of strong anger flood your system. You knew you had to be alone. “You can go on ahead, Angelina. We can catch up later. I just need to think for a second.”

She nodded. You exchanged a brisk goodbye and then you watched her walk away. You sunk against the wall again and sighed, trying to understand your thoughts. You didn’t understand why he would even say anything about your fling, let alone called you a slut publicly. You absorbed yourself in your thoughts. Oblivious to the world around you or the students rushing to class. You stood there, mulling around your mind. You didn’t resurface to reality until there was another body pressed to yours. The motion left you pinned against the wall. 

It knocked the air out of you - which had to stop happening so frequently. It was getting to be annoying. “Slut,” Blaise’s voice growled in your ear. “Just admit that you’d prefer  _ me _ over any of these other boys.  _ Especially  _ those damned Weasleys.” One of his hands gripped your hip and held it firmly against the wall. The other had roughly grabbed your face so that your chin rested in his palm. You grappled for composure - terrified by this sneak attack. 

You wanted to push his chest away but his body was pressed to yours. He leaned in even closer as though he might kiss you. Instead he stared intently into your eyes. You grimaced. You could tell he was trying to get you to admit that he was your preference. He was all but forcing it out of your lips. You gathered your wits and pushed on his shoulder, trying to separate your body from his. It didn’t work. You sneered at him, “You can’t intimidate me, Zabini!”

Then his body peeled from yours. It was miraculous. Then you noticed the miracle was both twins yanking him backward by his robes. Blaise fell to the floor, assessed the three vs one ratio, and retreated. He snapped at you, reminding you this wasn’t over yet. You rolled your eyes. 

“It  _ is  _ over, Zabini. Leave her alone.” One of them called sternly after. You searched his face. The comical grin you had grown to know was nowhere to be found. You also noted the freckle beside his nose. You glanced at the other twin, who apparently had none on that plane of his face. So George had called after Blaise so angrily. 

“Thanks guys,” You said appreciatively, “But I could have taken him.”

“Sure you could,” Fred grinned. 

“But how else were we supposed to thank you for all the gossiping.” George chuckled.

“The school is buzzing about our magic sex god powers.”

“All thanks to you and your sparkling review,” George winked at you and laughed.

“Oh talk is cheap,” You teased back - recovering from the wild moment. “It would surely help if it actually came from me, you goofs.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Since your run in with Blaise, you were careful not to run into him. Not so much for your own safety, but for his. You were still enraged. The height of the gossiping and rumors had passed within a day or two. But still - his little stunt had put you on the student body’s radar. Five days had passed since the incident and you had resided in the protection of your newfound friend group for the entirety of it. You sighed, hoping they would continue to grant you their friendship. You pulled up your socks as you thought. A pestering feeling still mused whether they just felt bad for you. 

You couldn’t deny you had attached yourself to the idea of finally having friends rather quickly. Now you feared that being taken away. They had to be tired of the misfit Slytherin girl always tagging along, right? You turned on your heel, departing from your dormitory. You made your way into the common room as you fiddled with a stray strand of your hair. You had grown completely weary of the whispers and snide remarks your peers were saying as you walked by. 

You prepared for the backlash of Blaise’s stunt. It sounded like the common room was empty then. You hadn’t even looked in their direction. You looked straight ahead to the exit. You felt a light smack on your ass. It made a soft thud between you and your skirt. Your head whipped around, surprised. Blaise stood proudly and you knew, even before he took credit, that it had been him.  _ Well, that’s rather bold. Asshole.  _ He was smirking. “Change your mind yet, (Y/N)? My dormitory is empty. Why don’t we head up there and you can apologize for your rude behavior. Besides, you must be tired of whatever silly Weasley twin you’ve been occupying.”

Instant annoyance. “Don’t touch me again, Blaise.” You snapped with gritted teeth. Your fists balled up tightly. You tried to remain collected. This was just what he wanted, wasn’t it? For you to react? You cleared your throat, “If you do, I  _ will _ beat your ass.” You were impressed that you managed to keep a calm composure. You turned to walk away and go about your day as though nothing had happened. Blaise clicked his tongue, sounding rather amused. Your body was completely rigid with frustration. If you were to make a scene, it would reflect badly on your family name and your parents would have a fit. You refrained from turning back around and allowing your hand to meet his cheek. You continued on your path to your exit silently.

“You know, (Y/N), I never pegged you for the feisty type. You’ve always been so quiet - who knew you had it in you?” He was still talking after you. You felt his eyes intent on your figure as you walked away. “I certainly didn’t. I think it’s so much more fun when a girl has a bit of fight in her.” You bit back all of the retorts that came to mind. You were disgusted. Apparently he couldn’t handle rejection. “Keep fighting me. Hell, fight me all you want. I know you’ll be back in my bed sooner or later. They always are.”

_ Gross.  _ The urge to turn back was so strong it almost felt like you might pass out if you didn’t.  _ Who in Godrick’s name is shagging him when there are so many others here?  _ You had only resorted to Blaise out of convenience and slight boredom. Besides, he and his mother visited regularly over the summer. His mother and your parents got along famously. Your mother had specifically cautioned you to befriend Blaise. His mother was wonderfully wealthy. You didn’t bother reminding her that she was wealthy from her seven dead husbands - all of whom died in a mysterious way. It wouldn’t have made a difference in her eyes. She had hoped you’d taken an interest in Blaise. You had at first, he was very good looking. But that was for the sole purpose of shagging. 

You continued walking away. “Dream on, Blaise.” You left it at that. You left the room in a steady and confident stride - not faltering once. Once the door closed behind you, you darted down the corridor. Your braid whipped behind you. You desperately wanted to immerse yourself into a crowd of students. You would be less vulnerable amongst them. Headed straight for a sea of blue and yellow robes, you drowned yourself in the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students. The lull of their chattering eased your mind - which was on fire. You knew your presence hadn’t provided to be much of a disturbance. 

Or you had assumed that anyways. That assumption was burst as you walked by a couple of Ravenclaw boys. They were whispering to each other. “ _ There’s that Slytherin girl … Heard she was real easy … Wonder when she’ll get bored of Weasley … The quiet ones, mate, always the dirtiest… _ ” You could feel their eyes fixated on your form. Normally you reserved from these interactions, as they were tiring. Judging by the voice, they were still pretty young. At most thirteen. You glared back at them intensely. “Watch it.” They dissolved from your vicinity, apparently unaware of how loud their whispers had been. 

You chuckled to yourself. The situation wasn’t ideal but it was satisfying to watch their widened eyes as they scrambled away. You straightened your posture immediately. If people were going to talk, might as well look good. It felt unnatural for you to push back your shoulders, straighten your back, and hold your chin high. You were so used to blending in the shadows. You had always tucked yourself away, cowering and keeping your eyes on the floor. You pushed the urge to retreat back to that way of presenting yourself. 

Your eyes scanned the sea of students. To your surprise, they caught on red. You noticed a head of black hair and then, just beside them, a head of shorter brown hair. You quickly identified that Angelina and Katie were standing in the corridor talking. You seized the opportunity and approached. “Hey guys,” You greeted lightly. You didn’t indicate your horrible mood to them whatsoever. They both greeted you back cheerfully. They let you in on their plans for the afternoon, explaining that they were all going to hang out in the courtyard and that you should come too. You agreed, finding solace that you could escape into their plans once more. You would do a bit of studying in the library and meet them out there in an hour or two. 

They both thought that sounded great and headed off to wherever they were headed. You had no idea, you even forgot to ask. You were still getting the hang of having consistent friendship. It was a lot more involved than you had imagined. You reminded yourself to ask next time. You went on your way, turning down the opposite hall from where they had. You didn’t notice somebody sticking their foot out and tripped directly into Professor Snape. The clash of your bodies was unexpected. He fell back with a surprised expression. It quickly morphed into annoyance, staying at you. 

You gathered your things and stepped back, smoothing your skirt.  _ This is wildly embarrassing _ . Your cheeks burned just below a hundred and one degrees. “P-Professor-” You stammered, beyond mortified. “My apologies -” His stern face shut down your scrambled apology. He glared down at you, unimpressed. 

“Miss (Y/L/N), inciting violence? This was uncalled for. Join me for detention immediately.” You were dazed.  _ How in the hell could he not see that this was an accident? Why would I ever attack a professor??  _ “And for this disrespectful behavior, ten points from Slytherin.” You had never had detention before. You hesitantly followed closely behind him. You were so frustrated. You glanced over to see Katie and Angelina watching with dismay. They flashed sympathetic looks and waved awkwardly. What more, you couldn’t seek refuge with them now. 

You groaned internally. When you reached your destination, Professor Snape had you start on cleaning out every single potions vial - dirty and clean. By hand. The most unjust punishment you had ever experienced. “And don’t think of leaving until they are  _ all  _ spotless.” You sighed. Your shoulder slumped as you looked around. There were easily seventy to be cleaned. Defeated, you began your task. You scrubbed each glass vial with all the effort you could muster. You wanted to leave as quickly as you could.

But with each dirty vial taking a tedious long couple of minutes, it felt impossible. You’d be here all night. After your sixth vial, your hands began to shrivel and prune. Professor Snape eyed you for just a moment. It looked as though he was trying to decide something. Supposedly it was whether he could trust you here alone because he departed from the classroom. He must’ve deemed you docile enough. Besides, you reasoned, if you left - would just make you come back and complete your punishment. 

You went about your chore with great annoyance. The cluster of glass didn’t seem to deplete at all. You persisted anyhow. There was no getting out of this. After you had complete cleaning fifteen, you heard footsteps come through the doorway. You didn’t bother to look up, assuming Professor Snape had returned to check in on you. You continued the rigorous scrubbing. 

“Could use a hand, eh?” You instantly paired the voice to the speaker. George. You instinctively waited a moment. When George spoke, Fred was soon after. Or vice versa. The moment passed and you glanced over. Just George. 

“How’d you know where to find me?” You asked.

“Katie and Angelina.”  
“Mm, yeah. Makes sense. Where’s your redheaded comrade?”

“With Katie and Angelina.” A humored hum followed that. 

“Ah yes, the ladies man.”

“Righto.” He busied himself beside you. This was strange to you. You had figured he’d have come up with some ridiculous and goofy scheme to break you out of jail. But there he stood, inches from you, already with a dirtied vial in hand. You raised your eyebrows inquisitively. You both didn’t speak for several minutes. The sound of scrubbing against glass filled the air around you. It was kind of nice, almost. You wanted to feel guilty, but you’d be lying if you weren’t relieved he came to help you. 

“Professor Snape must be in a pretty bad mood to put a Slytherin in detention for an accident,” You finally said. By then, forty clean vials were lined neatly in front of you. You didn’t know why you even said that. It didn’t matter. You were doing time for a crime that wasn’t yours and that was that. You figured it was nice to talk. It’d pass the time. 

“Hm,” George glanced over at you, clearly amused. “I didn’t even ask why you are here and here you are, defensive as ever. Sounds like you really were up to no good.”

“Oh hush. I don’t have a bad bone in my body.”

“That’s something a criminal would say, you know.”

“What are you trying to imply, George?” You could hardly contain your giggles.

“That you’re guilty as charged, of course.” He paused. He looked over at you. The light from the window caught his brown eyes just right. They glinted.  _ How pretty _ . “Wait. How’d you figure I’m George.”

“Oh.” You were caught off guard. Your mind had grown distracted by the surprisingly sweet honey color his eyes reflected. You thought for a moment. There was no way you were going to admit you had started to watch closely to find small individual features. You didn’t want to look like a weirdo. So far, George had the freckle you had noted and if you listened closely, it was clear his voice was just a tad deeper. You figured the second would make you sound less creepy. “Your voice. You have a distinct voice to me.”

“Hm.” He nodded, accepting your answer. You both fell silent again. You absorbed yourself into cleaning the last bunch of vials as you mused on the color of his eyes. You had never thought much about brown eyes, admittedly. George had certainly changed that. The way they had glinted mesmerized you. You committed that to memory. You decided that brown eyes would be something appreciated a bit more from them on. You thought to tell George this but then again, you didn’t want to creep him out.

You both worked in tireless silence. You were pretty lucky that he came to help at all. You noticed him glance over at you from the corner of your eye. He smiled over at you. 


	5. Chapter 5

Between the two of you, the vials were all spotless. It had taken you quite a while to complete your assigned task. You couldn’t deny that George’s aid had made the tedious matter much more achievable. You glanced over at him. He stood there, washing his hands. He didn’t notice your eyes on him yet. In the past five days, you didn’t spend any alone time with him or Fred. Then again, you hadn’t spent a moment alone with any of them. The only exception was Angelina, whom you had stopped in the corridor to chat with or studied in the library for a bit. 

You took a moment to examine him closer. It would be practical, since you were compiling a list of features that separated the brothers from their joint twin custody. It had become a minor hobby of yours. You hated to call it that. It felt creepy. But you argued with yourself: how else were you supposed to identify who was who? 

He was rather tall. He had to have been at least six feet. If you weren’t so close, you might have assumed he was thin. You were noticing that this wasn’t quite the case. While yes, he was thin, that didn’t disregard how toned his muscles were. You assumed it had to have been Quidditch. His most noticeable feature, the red hair, had really distracted you from ever looking much further. He and his brother were easy to identify - always. You wouldn’t have had to strain to assure yourself they were the right people if you were walking down the hallway. 

He turned to you. It appeared he didn’t notice your blatant stare. If he had, he didn’t let on that he knew. “I think I’ll be sick if I have to look at another vial.” He grimaced, shaking his head. You laughed. Simultaneous, you both turned for the door and left. You trusted that Snape would find your completed work later. There was no use in waiting for him to come back. Especially since you had a feeling that he wouldn’t return until the next day. 

You walked side-by-side. It was hard to keep up with his long legs. He took much longer strides than you. You hustled to keep up with him. You envied how insync Fred and George always walked.  _ Must be nice to get places quick _ . You managed to keep in time with him to some degree, but it wasn’t without effort. He side eyed you, an amused smile curling the sides of his lips. “I  _ could _ slow down, if you asked nicely.” By the way he emphasized ‘could’ and the twinge of humor in his voice, you assumed that was a lie. Either way, you took the bait. 

“You  _ could _ , yes.” Your words came a little huffed, as you were still focusing on the fast pace. “But I highly doubt that you  _ will _ .” You looked over at him. You could see him nod and he looked as though he were weighing his options. His smile was larger than ever.

“Well, how should I know if I will?” He asked, as if it were obvious. He shook his head, his lips morphing from a smile to a smirk. “You haven’t tried asking nicely yet!” George, and Fred for that matter, exasperated you daily. They were quick witted. You were not even used to having friends. It almost felt a little too unusual for you to consistently communicate with them. There had been several times you genuinely just didn’t know how to respond. It was hard to be out of your bubble of solitude. Plenty of moments in the previous five days - you got flustered or overwhelmed or would fall back in conversation. 

“Hmph.” You murmured, crossing your arms. It wasn’t your  _ best  _ response but at least you responded at all. Still, he seemed to find it acceptable. He laughed anyways. Perhaps just to save your ego. You waited for what he had to say. You had a hunch that he wouldn’t let you off that easy. He didn’t say much of anything for a few minutes. It dawned on you that you had no idea where you were even going either. You waited for him to say anything. You glanced over at his face, noticing his jaw tightly shut and your eyes met. You caught him looking at you. You tipped your head slightly. 

“What?” You asked, insecure to have his eyes on you now. You had been subjected to so much staring and watching already, yet it being George made it even more uncomfortable for you. Something about it being a familiar face instead of a meaningless student in the waves of students that attend Hogwarts. You regretted the defensiveness in your voice. It was so evident you couldn’t even deny it. Your body stiffened in response.  _ Well, this just got a tad awkward.  _

“Nothing,” He shrugged. He sounded almost absentminded. His words almost always sounded purposeful. Now, this small ‘nothing’ sort of slithered out of his mouth. It didn’t sound like nothing to you. You watched his eyes, which had become somewhat of a fascination of yours since the hour before in the Potions classroom. You fixated on them. They were hazy, almost clouded, as if he were distracted. You couldn’t decide which made you feel more insecure: the staring or the sudden detachment. He blinked and suddenly he seemed much sharper, more aware. You figured he must be tired. 

Lulls of silence had never really bothered you. You thrived in silence. You had started to feel differently. Lulls of silence weren’t reassuring when you were amongst people. You presumed that was because you couldn’t read the situation without conversation. 

Finally he broke up the silence again. It felt like ages. Judging by the half of the corridor you had scaled, it’d been maybe a couple minutes. “Why do you get all...sassy… all of a sudden?” The warmth in his expression had returned. Even better, the conversational tone had returned too. You could tell he chose the word ‘sassy’ carefully. Which was wise. You would have gotten even more defensive if he had used a negatively connotated word. 

“I don’t care for being stared at is all.” 

“Think all this gossip has gone to your head, (Y/N). Not everybody is staring at you.” He always seemed to find a way to lighten the mood, despite your serious demeanor. You appreciated that.

“Not everybody, no. But you definitely were.”

“You are delusional.”  
“And you were gawking at me.”

“Oh please, tell me more about your glamorous celebrity life. Do you catch all of Hogwarts finest bachelor’s are goggling over you? Tell me, are the Durmstrang boys just as enamored with you?” 

“Oh hush,” You grinned over at him, settling into your back and forth banter. It was a bit clunky and awkward for you to formulate responses but you were starting to get the hang of it. You relied on your impulsive thoughts, ones that you would normally be lectured at extensively for at home. “The best I can give you is my autograph. I don’t have time for my  _ fans _ . I’m far too busy.” 

“Far too busy with your publicist Zabini, yeah?” 

“Mm…” You sobered from your goofiness slightly. You knew George simply meant he started all of this chaos for you. But it was still tender. Especially after his aggressive behavior towards you earlier. “You could say so.” He looked at you with an inquisitive expression, clearly reading the shift from humor to seriousness. 

“He’s still giving you trouble, huh?” 

“Very much so.” You wanted to tell him what happened in the common room. You, also, wanted to keep that moment to yourself. You feel a slight shame surge up your body. It wasn’t your fault. It was just...embarrassing. 

“Want Freddy and I to rough him up?” 

“I already threatened him. But if I need help, I’ll give you a shout.”

“What’d he do now - I mean, to deserve you threatening him?” He was watching your face more intently. Immediately, you began to feel flustered. You knew you wanted to tell him. Classically, your cheeks started to bloom in a deep shade of pink. He would know  _ something  _ happened. You stopped walking now and he halted beside you. You were trying to compile a way to tell him your story without feeling like you’d cry. From anger, or shame. 

“I suppose I could say he harassed me when I was leaving the common room this morning.” 

“Harassed you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Sexually? Or, like, bullying?” 

“Both.” 

You sighed and gave him a brief overview of your exchange with Blaise. George was silent. You watched as his face contorted between disgust, anger, and sympathy. You watched him closely now, unsure of what to do. Here, you’d always known George for not even two weeks, and you just dropped this personal story on him. His fists had clenched until his knuckles whitened. His jaw was rigidly locked. He finally met your gaze and by then, his face had softened significantly. “Are you alright?” 

You nodded to reassure him. It felt strange to have somebody checking in on you. Aside from your aunt - you were seldom asked how you were. You unfolded your arms and let them drop to your sides, allowing the barrier between you to fall. He stepped forward. He seemed hesitant as to whether or not he was allowed to touch you. “Can I give you a hug?” 

Again, you nod. He closed the open space between you. Your bodies pressed together. This was gentle. It was a nice break from all of the harsh things that had knocked into you lately. He encased you in his arms. They were long and easily wrapped around you. The heat radiating from his body warmed you. Instantly, you felt far more comfortable. You slowly brought your arms around his torso. You were a bit taken aback as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck. It was an interesting sensation - you had never really been touched there. Not gently, at least. 

You didn’t know how long you remained in this position. You did know, however, that you wanted to stay there. It felt secure. Your family wasn't very touchy with you growing up. Hugs were hard to come across. You wanted to tell him this too. You wanted to tell him a lot of things. But you’d already given him so much information - you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Aside from that, it was your turn to get to know a bit more about him and his life. You vowed to inquire more at a different time. 

You pulled away first. Reluctantly. Your bodies became singular again and you stepped away from each other. You watched George’s face. He smiled at you. You could already tell that his mind was buzzing with another idea. His slightly furrowed brows told you everything you needed to know. He was in the midst of piecing together an intricate plan. 

“I’ve got an idea.” He stated, clearly unaware that you already knew that. “C’mon, (Y/N)!” He grabbed you by your wrist excitedly. “We’re gonna get him back!” He was already skidding across the corridor and you followed after you. “Fred’ll  _ love  _ this too.” The two of you sped down the corridor, flashes of red and green billowed behind you. 


	6. Chapter 6

Whatever George was cooking up in his ginger top head, Fred loved it. They wouldn’t let you in on it just yet. It was extra frustrating because their synchronous twin communication was not a language you understood. So instead you sat in the Gryffindor common room, looking severely out of place, while they mapped out their plan. You crossed your legs and tried to be patient. You wished that Angelina or Katie or even Lee were here so you had something to do. You didn’t even have a book from your aunt, that wouldn’t come for another day or two. 

The twins huddled over their plan - pointing and laughing and making adjustments. Restless, you pulled your knees to your chest and tapped your foot methodically to an imaginary beat. You were careful not to sit in a way that would flash the students. You scanned the room around you, temporarily leaving the twins to their devices. The first you noted was the lighting was a bit too bright. The harshness was comparable to Slytherin common room, where the room always had a mellow and toned lighting.  _ How do Gryffindors sit in here without getting a headache?  _ You were struggling with it and you hadn’t even been there an hour. 

“Alright there, (Y/N)?” A twin asked you as you mused to yourself. You hadn’t realized they’d been glancing up at you at all. Both sets of eyes watched you with general concern. You nodded. You didn’t complain about the lights - in fear that they would think you were just whining to whine. They both scanned you for a second longer, suspicion on your face. Then, one got up. You couldn’t tell which due to the distance between you. He retreated into what you assumed was the dormitories. The other twin watched with a bit of surprise. You had always been sure they shared the same thoughts. Apparently not. 

The remaining twin smiled at you and pointed to the parchment they were meddling with. “It’s coming along nicely. We’ll show you when we’re done and you can critique it. Which is a very big privilege, you know. We don’t need an editor. But - you Slytherins are resourceful, maybe you can lend us a few tricks.” It took you a moment longer than it normally would to realize this was Fred. Your eyes were having some trouble focusing, which made you stain your whole brain. Either way, you laughed at his thought process. You felt as though you were in Slytherin because the Sorting Hat was faulty on the day of your sorting. “Sure, Fred.”

You exchanged smiles before you relaxed back into the sofa. He went about fiddling with his quill, taking his eyes off of you. Moments passed like this. The soft hum of other students filled your ears. A gaggle of students were talking about the upcoming Yule Ball and Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory competing. You secretly had hoped that Cedric would win. He was always kind to you. He was always kind to everybody. You were in the same year as him and before your life of isolation at Hogwarts, you had said hello to him at the Sorting. Cedric had made you hope you would be Hufflepuff too. You weren’t. But he was still kind whenever he saw you. There was a mutual friendliness with him. As you thought about him, it dawned on you that there was no reason you two couldn’t have been friends all this time. You managed to befriend a group of Gryffindors, hadn’t you? 

“You plan to go to the Yule Ball then?” Fred asked, also overhearing the other students. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I s’pose my parents will want me to go.”

“But you don’t want to?”

“Not much of a dancer.” You loved to dance. Just not when others could see you. “But my parents, they’re always about appearances. So I’d imagine they’ve already selected the dress I’ll be wearing.”

“Ah, right. You’re a (Y/L/N), I forgot.”  
“Yeah…” You wondered what that meant. 

“Well, stick with us and you’ll have, well, a ball.” Whatever it meant, Fred didn’t let us. He just grinned at you. You laughed.

“Fine, fine. I will make an appearance.”

“Good. George will like that.” Fred stated, looking at his plans once more. You wondered what that meant. “And I will too, of course.” The second bit of the sentence came rushed, as though he were trying to cover something up. You were about to ask why...

Your conversation was interrupted by a blanket being draped over you. You looked up to see George offering it to you by simply placing it over you. “You looked cold,” He stated with a gentle smile. You accepted it. You didn’t dare mention that you dwelled in the dungeons, basically. It was a really kind gesture. You got comfortable, curling up in it. It smelled nice. You didn’t speak, just listened to the twins as they went back and forth. The crackling of the fireplace had begun to ease your mind. 

“I heard talk of the Yule Ball.”

“Yeah, I was just asking if (Y/N) would be going.” You could feel their eyes on you but you had shut your eyes. The blanket had brought on an instant sleepiness to your bones. Suddenly, recalled you were exhausted from your day and detention. 

“Why? So you can whisk her off her feet?” George chuckled. 

“No, no,” There was a laugh between his words. “I’m thinking of asking Angelina.”

“Ahh. I reckon you should ask soon then. I think Lee has the same idea.”

“I’ll ask tomorrow then. He can ask Katie.” You wondered, though you were starting to tune them out, who George would ask then. You had assumed it would be Katie if Fred was taking Angelina. Perhaps he had his eyes on somebody else, because he didn’t seem to care about the idea of Katie and Lee dancing the night away. Their voices started to blur in with the sounds of the common room now. You could hardly hold onto their conversation. You dozed off not long after…. 

“Oi! Isn’t that the Slytherin girl mum was having a fit about?” You awoke to a loud, accusatory voice. Your eyes flickered opened. Everything was still blurred and it took a moment for them to focus. You felt stiff and groggy. Judging by the now dimly lit room, you’d fallen asleep for quite a while. 

“Who?” 

“(Y/N)?” 

“That’d be the Slytherin mum got in a tizzy about alright.” You analyzed the scene. Fred was standing nearby and George sat on the arm of the sofa you sat on. Another red haired student was talking to them. You quickly understood that Ron had woken you. Instantly, you resented him because now you were cranky and awake. You sat up slowly and stretched, hearing cracks all throughout your body. You groaned, still sleepy. 

“Now you’ve done it, Ron.” 

“Yeah, now she’s awake.”  
“Maybe she’ll hex you.”

“Yeah, she looks like a bear.” You must’ve looked very cranky. There was no way the twins would know if you were a crabby morning person. You glanced between the three of them. You acknowledged their comments with a half smile but full effort was not something you were capable of just then. Ron huffed at them and rolled his eyes. 

“Besides, Ronald, it’s rude not to introduce yourself.”  
“Yeah, she's a friend.”

“And you, brother, are being bloody rude to her.”

“Wait ‘til we tell mum.” 

Ron suddenly paled. He shrunk a bit, more sheepish. He looked at you. You were growing more alert with each passing moment, still snuggled up in George’ cozy blanket. Slightly, you shifted. You smiled at him, hoping to seem more warm than before. You extended a hand, “You must be Ron. I’m (Y/N).” You were horrible at introductions. They felt too formal for you. Especially since your parents were the epitome of formal. Nonetheless, he took your hand and shook it. He looked apologetic for being so rude about you, in front of you. You decidedly forgave him. He smiled at you as though he knew you had. 

You glanced out the window. Your eyes widened. No wonder it was dimmer in here. It was nighttime now. The moon hung low in the sky. You looked at the twins with a shocked expression. “Why didn’t you two wake me up?” You sounded exasperated. You dreaded walking the corridor at night. It was cold, creepy, and dark. You shuddered at the realization you would have to find your way back to Slytherin’s common room.  _ Dammit!  _

“Well, we were going to…”

“But in our defense, we thought you  _ were  _ awake for the first twenty minutes.”

“You had a lot to say.” Their smiles were mischievous. You blushed darkly.  _ Oh Godrick. Sleep talking again… _

“Not that it made any sense.”

“Still funny though.” You sent death glares their way and scowled at that as they made fun of your sleep talking. You silently hoped it was nothing too wild. Then again, you weighed your options, between the drooling or the sleep talking - what would have been worse? They seemed unfazed by your disdain for their mocking. Instead they just shook their heads and continued to laugh. 

You looked out the window again. You’d have to leave soon. You knew even being seen leaving Gryffindor’s common room late would cause a spike in the rumors. Especially this late. You frowned. You were exhausted by the constant comments and the sudden change in how you were treated. They must have sensed this. At least one of them did. “Why don’t you just stay here?” Your head snapped to look at them again. “Last thing you need is another detention if you get caught.” 

You sat there. Again, you had to weigh your options. Either a potential punishment or a potential for the rumors to evolve were on the line. You didn’t like the odds of either. You fiddled with a strand of your hair as you thought it over. You glanced up to see George’s steady gaze on you. He looked like he was trying to read your conflicted face. “You can have my bed,” he added confidently. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” That made you lean a bit towards staying, if you were honest. “And, I’ll lend you some pajamas.” 

“Deal.” You caved, making the decision quickly. You wrapped the blanket around yourself. Ron had an incredulous look on his face. He shook his head and went off to bed, by the looks of it. Fred and George were having one of their weird twin conversations, solely through their facial expressions. You didn’t bother trying to crack their secret code. Then, they turned to you. 

“Before that, let us show you the plan of attack.” Fred grabbed the parchment they had been so meticulously writing on. You leaned forward to get a better look. 

“Basically, these are the new and improved fireworks. There will be no bodily harm this time.”

“Hopefully.”

“Right. Hopefully. But here’s the fun part about these… They have a little gag to them.”

“So basically, once it’s reached its target - Blaise Zabini - it’ll shower him in a few little powder that’ll temporarily dye his hair and likely his robes a nice subtle hot pink.”

“Brilliant, yes. But there is a tiny obstacle in our way…” They looked at you. Both of them seemed to regret to inform you of this tiny obstacle. You raised your eyebrows and motioned for them to continue. 

“In order for this firework to seek him out, we need something of his. For it to track, essentially.” 

“That’s where you come in!” Your heart sank. The thought of interacting with Blaise made your stomach turn. You considered the pay off though. With that in mind, you promptly agreed to it. They seemed surprised and pleased at your willingness. You didn’t let on how much this bothered you. You all got up after that.

You followed the twins, who shushed you to be quiet, up into the boy’s wing of the dormitories. It felt wrong. You weren’t a huge rule breaker. But George assured you it would be fine. Tight lipped, you climbed the stairs. Getting up to them felt like eternity. Your heart rattled in your chest. The steps creaked under your feet. The sound was deafening to you, despite it being so quiet. 

Finally, you made it to their dormitory. You noticed the two empty beds and deducted these were the twins. You held the blanket tightly to your chest. You sat gently on the end of one bed and Fred sat on the opposite. Clearly, you had chosen the correct bed. Between them, George was digging through a trunk. You could see him gathering clothes. You sat, watching him curiously. He turned and handed the items to you. A large sweater with a “G” on it and a pair of loose cloth shorts you just knew were going to fall off you if you didn’t tie them tight enough. 

You smiled slightly. “Turn around,” You whispered softly. “Both of you. And don’t peek.”

“Way to take the fun out of it, (Y/N),” Fred pouted, but they both obliged. With their backs turned, you tried to make changing as quick as possible. You switched out your daily clothes for George’s sweater and shorts. You practically swam in all the material. It made sense, he was rather tall. You gave them the okay to turn back around as you folded your blouse, skirt, robes, and everything else neatly. You placed them on the trunk. 

Now it was your turn to hide your face in your palms. They hadn’t asked you to do it. In fact, it seemed they didn’t care whether you watched them change or not. But you did so anyways, covering your eyes with your fingers. “Don’t lie, I know you’re peaking,” George snickered softly. You did once to be sure they were changed, which they already were. 

You offered George his blanket back, but he declined. He was crouched on the floor making up a makeshift bed for himself. “No, that’s alright. Seems you thought it was rather cozy.” It was. That’s why you had wanted to give it back. Especially since you were occupying his bed and he would be sleeping on the floor. You offered it once more. He pushed your hands away and you climbed into his bed. 

It took a while to feel secure. Notably, it hadn’t for the twins. That surprised you a bit, since one was dead asleep on the hardwood floor. You laughed to yourself quietly. He must’ve been dead tired. A bit restless, you took the blanket he rejected and laid it back over his sleeping body. Feeling more comfortable with doing that, you curled up into his blankets and listened to the room fill with light snoring. You, yet again, dozed off. 


	7. Chapter 7

You woke to a light tapping on your shoulder. You scrunched your nose, annoyed by the disturbance. Your hand shooed away the perpetrator with an agitated swat before turning away. You pull your blanket up over your face. This action caused somebody to laugh just above you. You were far too groggy to put together who might be poking at you. Especially as you were so comfortable, so warm. “(Y/N), get up!” A voice called, fighting back laughter. You groaned, loudly, still not opening your eyes. 

A light tap turned into a push.  _ That’s it. Who the hell is doing that?  _ Your snapped eyes open, shooting daggers all about you. Your eyes met two looming sets of brown eyes staring back down at you. Their smirks made you want to deck them both. You recalled you had slept in George’s bed last night. “Morning, sleepyhead.” There was laughter floating in the air.  _ So funny _ . 

You sat up slowly and stretched dramatically, making sure to crack every bone in your body. They grimaced with each crackle that left your body. You glared at both of them. They hardly noticed your crankiness. “Nice bed head.” Your hair was staticy and the fly aways from the braid stuck out. You stared at them, you were not in the mood for this. 

They took a step back from you as you wriggled out of bed. You looked down at the sea of sweater you were drowning in. You glanced at them from the corner of your eye, a bit self-conscious that you talked again or drooled. They wouldn’t let you live those down. For a moment, you thought George had been staring at you as you stretched. Your head whipped back but he was busying himself with the buttons of his shirt. You could’ve sworn you saw it. “Bit of a bear in the morning, eh (Y/N)?” You rolled your eyes and gathered the clothes you had neatly folded. 

“And you drool. Appreciate you doing that all over my pillow. I’ll cherish it.”  _ Oh Merlin!  _ You blushed deeply, hiding your face away from them. You shook your head, shrinking deeper into his sweater. You were, well, mortified. You didn’t have to look at him, or Fred, to know their grins would make you cringe.

“I need to change,” You stated, switching the gears in your conversation. “I’ll meet you guys downstairs, yeah?” You looked back at them now. It hadn’t gotten past them, they must have known you were trying to avoid talking about it. Fred crossed his arms over his chest while George pouted, as if pleading with you to let them stay. “Go.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“Finally, we’ve got a girl up here and you won’t even let us stay.”

“Yeah. How’re we s’posed to tell people how crazy you are about us?” You pursed your lips, trying to hide a smile from curling your lips. You were tight-lipped, refusing to let out the laughter you were holding in. Only the Weasley twins would think this was mastermind persuasion. They took your sputtered laughter as defeat. They’d meet you downstairs. You sighed in relief, anxious at the thought of them sticking around. You knew they wouldn’t, but it still made you nervous.

Hesitant, you looked around to be sure you were completely alone. The last thing you needed amidst the drama and rumors were peering eyes. You shuddered as you pulled his sweater over your head, the cool air nipped at your exposed skin. You tried to change quickly. You didn’t want to hold anybody up. Once you were completely changed again, you folded his things and laid them on the bed. You were still disgusted you had drooled. 

You rebraided your hair so it fell as a neat plait down your back. You met the twins back downstairs, who were sitting on the couch waiting for you. Along with Lee. You groaned internally, hoping he wouldn’t make fun about you sleeping in George’s bed. You wondered if he heard you talking too. To your surprise and somewhat delight, he didn’t mention either. Though he smirked at you, like he knew something you didn’t. But he didn’t taunt or tease. Well, not you at least. He was, instead, razzing George for finally getting a girl in his bed and still sleeping on the floor. You chuckled and rolled your eyes.  _ Weirdos.  _

The four of you grouped together, leaving the Gryffindor common room as a unit. You recalled your task for the day .  _ Blaise fuckin’ Zabini.  _ How could you forget? As you walked, you drifted from the three boys' chatter. Instead you wondered what you could take from Blaise. Something he likely wouldn’t notice. Perhaps one of his uniform ties would do. You knew he had dozens. An unnecessary item to have in bulk. You were zoning far out. You hardly felt grounded to the floors of Hogwarts. How would you ever pull this off? Likely, one of the other year fours would rat on you for being in his belongings. 

You juggled ideas. It was unlikely you could sneak in there without somebody telling him. You glanced up at the three of them. They were oblivious that you were so far deep into your thoughts, you hardly processed their conservation. Fred and Lee were laughing about something George said. 

Your eyes lingered on George. His face was crinkled in laughter and contentment. His hand was shoved in his pocket casually while the other ran a hand through his shaggy hair. You caught yourself staring, maybe even admiring, for far too long than you’d like to admit. It was strange. Fred and him were practically identical, yet you were more than capable of telling the difference. What more, you found yourself always eyeing George. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you two seemed to be closer. 

He looked up at you, catching your blatant stare. He looked a bit surprised.  _ Why in the world is he surprised?  _ It almost looked like he felt a bit flustered under your watch. You wouldn’t have guessed it. It only passed his face ever so slightly, then was lost to a smile. Not one of his humored, cheeky smiles either. Just warm. It traveled all through his face, up into his eyes. 

You looked away. You were a bit embarrassed to be caught. At least he had simply smiled. You looked to your hands, locking your fingers tightly together to appear mindful. You were sure he saw right through this. You hadn’t meant to make him feel scrutinized. Lee and Fed were hardly aware of what had just gone on between you and George. If you were honest, you weren’t sure what that was anyways. 

You knew you had a task at hand. You announced your departure. “I’ll see you guys later,” You stated surely. “I’ll be back with something of his.” You still had no idea what you were going to do. You mused on this still. Could it be done?

“Er, (Y/N), don’t you remember what day it is?” Lee interjected before you could rush off.

“November 24th?” You stated, confused as to why that would even matter. You just knew you didn’t have to report to any classes. 

“Yeah, exactly. Don’t you remember? Today is the first task for the Triwizard Tournament. Aren’t you going?” You had completely forgotten. You hadn’t planned on going, but it had piqued your interest as the weeks lead up to it. 

“Perfect. I can sneak up into his dorm while it goes on.” The taste of revenge was far more compelling than some big wizard challenge. You had made up your mind. This was the perfect moment to strike. 

You said your goodbyes, as they still wanted to go and spectate. You split from the group, eager to get this over with. You sped down the halls. The clicks off your heels echoed back off the walls. It was a relatively short trip for you, since you weren’t so nervous. You felt much more okay if you were going to be alone. No witnesses, no problems. 

You bustled into the common room. It was at that point your heart began to pound a bit harder. There was always the odd chance somebody wasn’t so interested in the tournament either. You didn’t want to slow or stop, in fear that it would leave you stagnant. Your hands shook slightly, though you tried to be braver than that.  _ Resourcefulness. Ambition. Cunning.  _ You referenced the traits of a Slytherin. You would need them now. For a single moment, you felt more Slytherin than you had since the Sorting Hat sat atop your head. 

You entered the boy’s dormitory. It was unlikely that the lower years would even bother you, if they were lingering. It was easy enough to locate the fourth year quarters. It had a very similar layout to the girls’. Though you were a year older. You had anticipated that you’d fumble about. Yet you were snaking around just fine. The Gryffindor bravery must’ve been rubbing off on you. 

Right away, it was obvious where Blaise slept. You recognized his belongings from the times you had snuck into his room. Which wasn’t often. He mostly came to yours. His trunk creaked as you opened it. This made you cringe slightly, praying nobody would hear what you were up to. You pocketed a striped green tie slyly.  _ The git will never know it’s even missing.  _ Besides, even if he did, it was more likely that Malfoy, Crabbe, or Goyle would’ve snatched it first. You dwelled by his bed for a moment too long.

“What’re you doing in here, (Y/L/N)?” Blaise’s voice made you jump. You hadn’t expected him. “Not that it’s not a pleasure to see you.” You couldn’t tell if he was as surprised as you or trying to be flirtatious. He eyed you with suspicion, yet there was a glint of hope.  _ Poor guy has no idea.  _

“Oh, er,” You froze in place. “I was waiting for you, of course. But I’ve been here an awful while so I figured I wouldn’t catch you.” Your fingers encased the tie in your pocket tightly.  _ Fuck. _

“Oh. Sorry to keep you waiting,” He was smirking at you. “I just hadn’t realized you’d be by so... _ soon _ .” You sat on his bed, trying to appear casual. Like you had meant to be here. For him. You crossed your legs and smoothed your skirt. 

“No worries, Zabini. Sorry to pop up out of the blue. I just...missed you, is all.” You were repulsed. You guessed there was no way out of it.  _ Gross, gross, gross… _

“I knew you would.” He walked toward you in confident strides. It wasn’t long before he stood above you, with a satisfied look on his face. His hand cupped your face. You had to admit, this was gentle, for Blaise’s standards. You fought the urge to smack it away. He leaned further in...

_ Fuck. _


	8. Chapter 8

You couldn’t relax into his hand, nor into your increasing closeness. You had felt your bare skin against his a handful of times before. This, though, this repulsed you. The thought of letting his lips touch yours after all the nasty shit he had said about you made your stomach turn. You tried not to grimace as he leaned further into your personal space. Thoughts raced through your head, trying to find an exit out of this mess. He paused just before your lips united. You thanked Godrick for this chance to free yourself from the situation. 

The air around you was cold. Your fingers rested on your thigh. Even the skin there was cold to the touch.  _ Weak excuse. He won’t care.  _ You fumbled as you played with the hem of your skirt anxiously. He was watching you intently. He was watching you with lust. He could call you a slut and still want you. You were even more revolted by this thought. He didn’t care as long as he won in the end.

“Oh, fuck!” You exclaimed, just before the remaining barrier between your faces could be closed in and you’d be trapped.

“What?” Blaise jerked back. Almost immediately. You felt a sudden rush of relief. 

“I just started my period.” You stated without a second thought. Your period wasn’t due for another week. 

“Erm,” He stepped back uncomfortably.  _ What a big baby.  _ Your body's rigid stance slacked. You wanted him to be the scared one. And if periods were it, then by all means. “You’re  _ bleeding _ ?” He looked like he might wretch. 

“Duh,” You stated as if he were dumb for even asking it. “What’s the matter? I thought we were just gonna get to the good part?”

“Wh-what? Have sex? While you bleed?” His face had scrunched in disgust. 

“Scared of a little blood, are you?”  
“N-no! That’s just disgusting, (Y/N)! Honestly.”

“Fine then. Forget I offered.”

“Wait…”

“No, I’ve made up my mind.” You stated. You rose to your feet and walked past him nonchalantly. You shrugged with an unimpressed look. “Can’t waste my time shagging an immature boy.”

“(Y/N)!” He sounded exasperated. You found joy in watching him struggle. He was flustered and it showed. “It’s gross.”

“Then no worries.” 

“But-”

“No worries Blaise,” You looked back at him before you departed from the dorms. “Besides, I’ve thought about it. I much rather prefer a Weasley over you.” 

You left after that. You could hear him trying to form a cohesive sentence, or even a word. You laughed to yourself as you made your way out of Slytherin headquarters.  _ What a git.  _ You ran your thumb over the material of his tie with a satisfied grin. Sure, you’d had to freak him out a bit over a period, but what loser couldn’t handle talking about a period? Glad to be away from him and his eventual meltdown, you walked the corridor. You pushed your shoulders back and your chin high. 

Students were started to fill back in from the challenge. You were sort of curious about how it had played out. The corridors were buzzing. You could hear bits and pieces. You were grateful the attention was off of you. “ _ Viktor Krum … Harry Potter … tied! … Cedric will catch up… Dragons! _ ” You tried to make sense of it all. All you could make clear was that Harry and Viktor were tied. Other than that, it was past you for the time being. You’d ask later. You kept your eyes peeled for two tall counterparts with red hair. They were harder to miss than Angelina, or Katie, or Lee. Thus far, you didn’t see them.  _ Oh well. Later then. _

You headed for the courtyard instead. Since the students were all making their way back, it would be the perfect opportunity for you to get some air. You had just made it out there when you heard your name called. “(Y/N)!” You looked behind you, only about a yard from the door you went through. There they were. Your friends. Angelina had called your name. Beside her was Katie. Lee, Fred, and George trailed behind them. She was grinning. “You are bloody deaf, aren’t you? We called for you.” 

“Apparently I can’t hear,” You laughed and waited for them to catch up to you. “To be fair, everybody’s so loud in there. How was it?” 

“Entertaining.” She responded. Again, you were immersed in a group. Now that you saw the twins you remembered the tie. You pulled it from your pocket and placed it into Fred’s hands. 

“We didn’t expect you to get something so quick,” He admitted. He sounded impressed. 

“I s’pose it was easy to get with him away though, huh?” Lee asked you. 

“Actually,” You considered if you should elaborate on the struggle you endured to get the damn tie.”I thought he’d be gone. He walked in on me taking it.” Suddenly, all eyes were on you. You weren’t much of a storyteller, so you could felt on the onslaught of disappointment already. 

“What’d you do then?” 

“Well… I  _ had  _ the tie by the time he found me out. But, he also wanted to know why I was in his dorm in the first place…”

“And?”

“And… I played it off like I was there to seduce him.” 

“(Y/N)!” Katie looked at you, her hands on her hips. “Do NOT tell me you slept with Blaise.” Your eyes widened and you jumped to your own defense immediately.

“I didn’t!” You stated, amazed she’d ever think you’d do that. For a tie. “He went to kiss me...and…” 

“And?” Angelina gave you a pointed look. 

“I said I started my period….and he was repulsed.” There was a silence. It made you feel idle. You glanced around wildly at your friends. Suddenly, they all busted out with laughter. You turned red, unsure of whether to laugh or die. Angelina was practically crying, howling with laughter. You crossed your arms. 

“Oh, (Y/N),” She managed between laughter. “Don’t be like that. It’s hilarious and you know it.” You let a smile crack across your face.  _ At least it’s funny.  _ You shook your head. Their laughter was contagious. Angelina could not contain herself. Which made you laugh much harder than the fact that everybody else was laughing.  _ It can’t be that funny, can it?  _ You wondered what in the world had struck her so hard that she was in tears. 

The twins were positioned on either side of you. It seemed they were more amused at Angelina than what you had said as well. They both stood with their hands in their pockets, grinning. Katie, however, looked as disgusted as Blaise had been. You figured it couldn’t be everybody’s cup of tea. The laughter died down a few degrees but she still wasn’t having it. 

“Honestly, George, this is the girl you want as your Yule Ball date?” She said, pinching the bridge of her nose. It didn’t seem malicious. She just seemed nauseated. 

“Katie!” Angelina and the twin said in unison. Angelina motioned towards you with an expression of ‘are you stupid?’. 

“What?” Katie looked confused and then her head darted between the group. Then her face morphed like a realization had hit her. “Oh. She doesn’t know yet, does she?”

“Clearly not,” George stated. This was the closest you’d ever seen to George being genuinely annoyed. This was also the first you’d heard about going to the Yule Ball, especially with you.

“Well, I thought you already had asked. You know, since Fred asked Angelina already. You two always do things at the same time.” She sounded defensive yet apologetic. Despite the new knowledge George had planned to ask you, you still were pleased to hear Angelina and Fred would be going. You sensed she harbored a fondness for him. “And since Me and Lee were going, I thought it was obvious.”

“I still have to ask her, Katie!” George said incredulously. He looked thoroughly annoyed. “You can’t just assume she wants to go with me, you know.”

“She’s standing right there, guys.” Angelina said, stating the obvious. “Shouldn’t you include her in this?” There came a silence. Yet again, all eyes on you. You cowered away from all of this unwanted attention. You cast Angelina a desperate look. She just nodded. You cleared your throat. 

“I would love to go to the Yule Ball with you, George.” Your mum was going to absolutely kill you when she found out.  _ Fuck it.  _


	9. Chapter 9

The next couple of days, you managed to keep your Yule Ball date under wraps from your parents. You received a parcel from your aunt Lyra the morning after agreeing to be George’s date. It was another book, of course. This time,  _ Romeo and Juliet _ . You wrote her back instantly. You thanked her for the book, but you also spilled all of what had been happening in the past couple of weeks at Hogwarts. Of all the people in your family, you expected her to at least be excited. You hoped to hear back soon.

When you weren’t wondering how in the world you’d get your parents to send you a dress without confessing your growing bond with George, you were watching the twins construct their project. You had taken to calling it the “Zabini Vengeance Plan”. It hadn’t caught on with the lot of them but you personally found it funny. They would talk while they tinkered. You would  _ try  _ to do homework. It was hard to do with twins making remarks, specifically targeted to distract you. They almost never had homework when you met up with them. So, as you sat and grumbled in the courtyard with a book perched on your lap, they were goofing about. Lee certainly didn’t help with this particular situation. 

You laid in the grass, on your stomach, and traced your fingers over each word as you read it. The air around you was cold with the promise of winter to be there soon. You were encased in the chill. Katie and Angelina sat a few feet from you, exchanging homework answers. They would try to help you but you knew they had their own classes and homework to worry about. So you laid in frustrated silence. Not because it was hard content to grasp, but because the guys were just so  _ loud _ . You were learning that having a group of friends that naturally fed off each other’s wild energy easily wiped out your social battery. You tried to block them out but their voices carried over to you. You found yourself rereading the same line over and over and over again. 

You wouldn’t be able to do this until later - when you were tucked away in your bed. You closed the book abruptly and laid your head in the grass. You listened to Angelina and Katie as they veered from homework to gossip and what they’d be wearing to the Yule Ball. You shifted your attention on Lee, Fred, and George who were making some jokes that you couldn’t possibly grasp because you hadn’t been listening enough beforehand. You decidedly settled on listening in to the girls.

Katie and Angelina were talking about color schemes and how they’d be doing their hair. You didn’t engage in the conversation. Normally you’d be excited to talk to them in any situation but you felt closed off from this discussion. You rolled over onto your back and looked up at the sky. Angelina was musing over wearing the color purple. You knew she would look stunning in purple. You sort of resented that you couldn’t ask them what you should wear. Hell, how were you supposed to even obtain a dress? You sighed to yourself, watching clouds drift in the sky. 

You ran a hand through your hair and raked out a leaf that had strewn itself in. You had disconnected for the world for a moment. Katie brought you back into orbit, “Hey, (Y/N), what do you plan on wearing to the Ball?” You glanced over at the pair, a little surprised. You had absolutely no idea. You were still coming up with a cohesive plan. 

“Hmm,” You sort of shrugged. “Not sure honestly.”

“Why not green?” Angelina proposed. 

“Wouldn’t that clash with George’s hair?” Katie asked, unsure. 

“You have a point there.” You said, sitting up. 

“Black is always a classic.” Angelina suggested. 

“True. I need to get my hands on a dress first.”

“That shouldn’t be hard?” Katie stated with an inquisitive look. 

“Well, I’ll have to ask my parents to mail it to me.”

“So? Aren’t they, like, pretty  _ rich _ ?” 

You felt a twinge of annoyance. You certainly weren’t the most rich wizarding family around. There was no denying there were no financial struggles in your home. You lived relatively comfortably and getting your schooling supplies was never an issue. Especially since you were an only child. Your mother was the head art historian for the Ministry, which was a prestigious job. Your father was Head of Incarceration, he was employed through the International Confederation of Wizards. He was responsible for managing the containment of internationally wanted criminals. Needless to say, he traveled a lot and your mother kept order at home. 

It wouldn’t be hard to ask for a dress. It would be hard to explain you would be going with a Weasley boy - not Blaise Zabini or Draco Malfoy or anybody of high status. Your parents were in the eye of the public so they showed no disdain for anybody of less blood status - they were more concerned with their reputation. They really wanted you to secure a relationship and later, marriage, with somebody in the same social standing as them. You felt a severing connection to their desires for you: George Weasley was proving to change a lot in your life. 

“Well, yes.” You confessed, nervously playing with the hem of your skirt. “We are definitely well off.”

“So what’s the problem?” She asked.  _ Merlin! Nosy! _

“They are a bit…” You glanced over at George. He wasn’t paying attention. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “Concerned with reputation. They want me to marry somebody like Blaise one day.” 

“Gross,” Katie nodded. She must have been able to read the disgust on your face as you recalled the thought of marrying Zabini. “Don’t you have anybody else to ask?” 

“I have a squib aunt,” A lightbulb went off in your head.”Her name is Lyra. All of our family has had powerful magical abilities for generations. Just, not her. My family sees that she lives a decent life. She frequently lives among muggles.” You didn’t add that she was a source of shame for your pure-blood family. Your grandmother loved her deeply and that love kept your grandfather keeping her comfortable. Your mother and father didn’t really try to know her. You were the closest to Lyra.

“Ask her then.”

“I was just thinking of that. You’re a genius, Katie.” 

Finally the boys joined your gathering on the grass. George and Fred perched themselves close to you. You could see they had no idea what you and the girls had been talking about earlier. You felt relieved. You didn’t want to upset George, or Fred. They were looking at you with mild interest. 

“You know (Y/N), Ron told our mum all about how you and George are going to the Yule Ball together,” Fred stated. His lips were curled into a half smile. “She was so thrilled Georgie could land a date with a (Y/L/N). She’d love to meet you.” 

“She wrote to me about it this morning,” George cleared his throat. You watched as he jeered his twin in the ribs with his elbow. “She wanted you to know, er, if you had no other plans after the Ball that you were invited to our house for supper.”

“Oh!” You were surprised. You were often used to being treated as an accessory to your parents. You weren’t ever invited anywhere. “That’s terribly kind of her. I will have to see what my parents think. We don’t do much for Christmas anyhow.” The pit of your stomach dropped. Asking them would be an endeavor of its own. You pictured your father’s stern face and your mother’s contorted between wanting you to not resent her but wanting to obey your father. The twins didn’t need to know about your home life. 

“Great! Let us know. Mum would be happy to have you over.” Fred was cheerful as ever. 

“Yeah.” George seemed to analyze your face a moment longer. It was as if he was looking for some sort of indicator that you had more to say. You didn’t. But you did like the way he looked at you and you also hated that he looked at you. His cheeks were a bit pinker than usual. The newest development was the little flutter your stomach did when you noticed him looking at you. This time was no exception. 

You looked away. Watching him watch you was almost unbearable for you. You could feel yourself get excited to see him more with each passing day. It frightened you. Developing an attraction was not ideal. Especially as there was no way you could see him reciprocating those feelings. Yet you couldn’t help the stomach fluttering. You still felt his eyes on you. 

“(Y/N),” His voice was a tad softer than Fred’s chipper tone. You looked at him again. You tried to expel the thoughts from your head. “Would you take a walk with me really quick?”

“Sure.” Your brain’s buzzing numbed. You wondered what he had to tell you that would require a walk, alone. He got to his feet. You offered his hand. You placed your cold hand in his. It was so much warmer. He helped you to your feet. When his hand pulled away from you again, you felt a slight pang of disappointment. The cold settled back into your bones. You shoved your hands into the pocket of your coat. 

You walked away from the group. You didn’t stray too far from George. Maybe a foot at most. You were trying to soak up the heat that seemed to radiate off him. You were tight lipped, though curious to know what he was going to say. Your body vibrated in shivers. You regretted suggesting to come outside, although the crisp air felt nice. You noticed George’s face: he was more sobered than he normally was. His lips exhaled puffs of frosty air. It was so cold you could see it. 

“What’s wrong, George?” You finally broke the silence. You could hardly even see your group of friends now. You eyed him. You felt nervous.  _ What if he doesn’t want to go to the Yule Ball after all? Or maybe I said something wrong? Or did something?  _

“Nothing.” 

“Are you sure?”

“There’s nothing wrong, (Y/N),” He voice soothed the inner panic you were feeling. You just felt like something was about to go wrong. 

“Okay.”  
“Nothing that you did, either.” _How did he know?_

“So why the walk?”  
“Oh, you just looked a little overwhelmed. Thought you could use a moment away from all of that. I heard you talking about your parents. I didn’t realize they were so concerned with status.” _So he had heard_.

“Yeah, they’re sort of intense.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to come for Christmas, I understand.” He paused, with a frown. “Or if you want to back out of being my date. I get that my family isn’t very proper or highly regarded.”

“What? No, George. I  _ do  _ want to be your date. My parents and I are completely different. Those are their silly morals. Not mine. Besides, I bet your family is wonderful.”

“You’re sure? Won’t you get in trouble with them?”  
“It’s better to ask forgiveness than their permission.” He brightened when you said that. “I’d be happy to come meet your family. I’ll be there. You can count on it.” You felt a twinge of terror. Defying your parents would be a hell of a task. 

“Great!” He was beaming from ear-to-ear. You soon realized the task was more than worth it. “If you can’t though, don’t fret. I would understand.”

“I’ve already sealed the deal, George. You’re not getting rid of me now.” 

“Good. Can’t let a girl like you go that easy. How many other dates could I find that’ll drool on my pillow?” He stood in front of you. He looked down at you with a much more vibrant smile. You laughed, slapping at his arm. 

“Oh shut up!” You were grinning. “Will you ever let that go?”

“Never.” 

“Dammit.” You noticed the gap between you getting increasingly smaller. You stood in silence for a moment. It was a comfortable silence. Flecks of white from the sky started to bustle to the ground.  _ Snow!  _ They spun delicately with the wind before hitting the ground. Some landed in George’s hair and your cheeks. You had hardly noticed the sky growing thick with overcast clouds. George watched you as you watched the dainty specks whisk around the two of you. You were astonished at the timing of the first snowfall. 

“Listen, (Y/N),” He said, as he watched you. He sounded a bit nervous. The sudden drop from chilly to cold left his cheeks a deeper red than before. The tip of his nose was a bit rosy too. You looked at him, still caught up in the wonder of the snow. He grabbed either side of the zipper on your open coat and pulled you closer to him. You could tell his nerves were all over the place as he did this. His hands shook. You were a little surprised at the abrupt movement. Your hands rested on his shoulders in hopes of balancing yourself. “I quite like you.” He pressed his lips against yours.

Every nerve ending in your body lit up with heat. You could hardly feel the winter air whip against your legs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, shifting to be closer to him. Your bodies pressed together, creating a shield against the world around you. The snowflakes danced around your bodies as you melted into the abrupt kiss. 


	10. Chapter 10

You were in pure bliss. Never once had a kiss swept every breath from your lungs. Fireworks exploded in your chest. You never wanted to pull away from George’s lips. His lips had the faint taste of oranges. The citrusy taste only made you want to linger against him longer. His arms around you swarmed you with the aroma of cedar and cinnamon. It didn’t overpower you, instead you embraced it hanging around the two of you. Hesitantly, you pulled away. He looked down at you, locking eyes with yours. 

For a moment, you were drowning in the depths of his deep chestnut brown stare. The corners of his lips were fixed into an awed grin. You tried to regain your senses. The whooping and hollering of Fred and company across the field broke you away from the moment. George looked over at them. He began to laugh and waved them off as if he were chastising them. Your fortress from the whirl of snowflakes hadn’t been strong enough to ward off your friends apparently. He fixed his gaze back on you. You knew you were smiling. “I quite like you too, George.” 

As if your passionate kiss had not been enough to convince him of this, he brightened when you confirmed this. You ran a hand through your hair, a tad bit flustered at the turn of events. It wasn’t that you resented it - it just had all come so quickly. He cleared his throat, “You look cold.” You shrugged it off. You were fine. More than fine, even. You were running so hot that you wouldn’t know if your legs began to turn purple. Still, you didn’t mind when he took your chilled hand in his. He seemed unsure of this action. Like he might be pushing it too far with you. All you did was squeeze his hand. 

“Shall we?” You asked softly, gesturing with your freehand towards the group. He nodded. You took your time, you dawdled the length of the field back to your friends. He swung his arm, carrying yours along in the motion. Each nerve ending in your fingers were buzzing with excitement. With each new step towards Fred, Katie, Angelina, and Lee, you felt a stronger urge to stick close to George. But you couldn’t expect him to appreciate that. You two only shared a kiss. Finally within the confines of your close-knit group, they all recited their approval with a new round of whoops and hollers. 

“Glad you had it in you, George. I was starting to worry you’d wimp out again,” Fred clapped George on the back. He looked smug and proud. You gave him a pointed look.  _ Again?  _ You didn’t have a moment to interject and ask, Angelina was already squealing about how excited she was that George had just gone for it. She was talking rapid-fire, as if she had been waiting too long to talk about it. 

“Oh, (Y/N), I am  _ so  _ glad that he finally got over himself and kissed you!” She was all aglow. You hated to burst her bubble, so you let her continue to rave. “You know, he’s been talking about you since they accidentally hit you with that firework.”

“It’s really rather cute,” Katie added. George’s hand had slipped from yours and now the girls had cornered you into this little gab sesh. “I’ve never seen George so mad about a girl.”

“Yeah, he talked about you an awful lot. Kept asking how in the world he was supposed to tell if you liked him too.”

“We just  _ knew  _ you liked him-”

“Ladies,” George interrupted, breaking up their chatter. His laugh rang through his words. “She doesn’t need to know the whole deal.” 

The sighed, defeated. They agreed to cease revealing all of his plans and pining for you. You simply laughed. You found it very cute that George had put so much thought into you. Not only cute, you were grateful he had just gone ahead and kissed you. Before that, you knew it was a bit of a crush. But the kiss truly consolidated your rapid growing feelings for him. You would have never acted upon them either. You glanced up at him and smirked. It was knowing smirk. He looked down at you, running a hand through his hair with a bashful chuckle.

Your mind trailed away from the jittery energy of your girlfriends and George and Fred’s pride. You wondered where this left you and George. You hadn’t anticipated that your connection with him would escalate so intensely in such a short timeframe. You still had to consider whether this meant George was your boyfriend and if you were his girlfriend and if this was going to be a relationship. Then: what would your parents think? You were never the rebellious type. Always so obedient and willing to do as they say. Would this new development be worth defying them?

You tried to push the nagging thoughts from your mind. The wind bustled up under your skirt and your hands snagged the fabric before it could reveal you. You fell back from the chatter of the group. You felt a million miles away as you retracted further back into yourself. The only thing that reminded you that you were present was the wind biting at your exposed skin. There was talk of going inside. You nodded compliantly and followed in their huddled group. You noticed George glances over at you. You smiled at him despite feeling spaced out. 

They made the plan to head to the Gryffindor common room. You could see in the way that George pleaded with you silently that he wanted you to join. His convincing little hand motion made it hard to say no. Your mind was swarmed with conflicted thoughts and unmade decisions. You weren’t sure what told him this but he merged into your line of walking. “You look tired, (Y/N). Want me to walk you down to the Slytherin common room?” 

You agreed. You broke off from the others, saying your goodbyes over your shoulder. Your cooled skin was saturating itself in the heat of the castle. You were grateful to stop the subtle shivering you had only just noticed. You looked over at George to find that he was already watching you shamelessly. He had a hand shoved in his pocket and the other swung casually at his side. His long legs made it hard to keep up with his long strides. “So…” He trailed off. He, too, looked a tad conflicted. “What now? Now that you know I am absolutely crazy about you?” He smiled over at you. It was charming. He was always charming. 

“I don’t know,” You shrugged. His good humor helped you relax. The sound of his voice was becoming more and more soothing. “What happens when boys are absolutely, wildly, unbelievably crazy about you?”

“I wouldn’t know. Never had a boy absolutely, wildly, unbelievably crazy about me.”

“Shame. It’s really quite pleasant.” 

“You think Lee might ever flock over me like that?”

“Maybe. You’ll really have to woo him, though.”

“Give me some pointers. You seem to have no problem wooing me.”

“Look, not everybody gets that talent. I did. You’ll have to work for it.”

“Hm,” George looked as though he were pondering this deeply. “Like this?” He walked ahead of you, swinging his hips dramatically. He looked over his shoulder at you and winked. 

“Oh yes,” You stifled a snort of laughter.  _ What a dork.  _ “Very seductive. If you weren’t trying to woo Lee, I might take you up to my bed.”

“Well if it’s between Lee and  _ you _ , I might reconsider.”

“You’re right. Lee is too much of a catch. Leave me behind.”

“Nonsense. Have you seen you?”

“Not recently.”

“Well,” He stopped beside you. You looked up at him. His goofy persona shifted to something more amorous. He studied your face intently. He looked almost swept away for a moment. His hand reached toward your face, like he might cup your cheek in his palm. Instead he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear with care. “You are showstopping.”

“The show must go on,” You stated softly. Your heart was pounding so hard you could feel the pulse throbbing in your neck.  _ What a dumb thing of me to say.  _

“Not without you.”  _ Damn. He’s always slick, huh?  _ He leaned in like he might kiss you again. You wanted him to. Every fiber of you ached for another of his sweet kisses. The first kiss left you insatiable for more. You reached for you, again. This time for your waist. You wanted that too. You wanted him to pull you in. 

“Bloody hell, slut.” A deep voice interrupted. A male voice. It’s tone carried an annoyed ring to it. “Can’t you at least get a room? Or are you so desperate that you’ll snog Weasley in the corridors too?”  _ Fucking Blaise Zabini.  _ Your loose posture tightened as you whipped around to face him. 

“What now, Zabini? First you’re begging for me to shag you and next you’re having a tantrum because you had your shot? It’s exhausting. Make up your fucking mind.” You were mentally spearing him over and over again. Pure rage was building up in your chest.  _ When will this git get the hint?  _

“Listen, whore,” He sneered. He began to hurriedly make his way towards you. “I am getting  _ really  _ tired with your delusional ass. You need to get off so bad that you’re willing to let a Weasley between your legs? What’s next, you love muggles too?” You could hardly brace yourself before his hand was wrapped around your throat. The surprise of the impact knocked you back a step. You gasped. He looked pleased at your vulnerability. 

“Come on, Zabini. Choking? This move is getting old…” You choked it out through puffs of air. This was all happening so quickly. You could hardly keep up.  _ At least last time it was enjoyable. _ He wasn’t spared another moment to say something back. His hand was abruptly separated from your neck as George through his whole weight into Blaise. There was a flash of light as you fell back onto the floor. You scrambled to your feet in case Blaise could gain on you again. 

When you were upright again, George was on top of Blaise. Both of their wands had been thrown to the side and skidded across the hallway. His elbow was cocked back, hand wrapped into a fist, and he was ready to make connection with the other boy’s face. “George, stop-” You pleaded frantically. A moment too late. His fist met Blaise’s nose. The next thing you saw was blood oozing out of his nostrils and splattering onto George’s clothing. You weren’t sure how many hits he had gotten in from the time it had taken you to get back on your feet. 

You rushed to grab George’s elbow before he could swing again. You couldn’t believe he even had it in him to attack Blaise. You pulled back with his elbow in your clutch. He looked up at you with a hardened look. When he saw it was you, he softened. “Enough.” You stated. He looked furious. In a way you had never expected from him. He reluctantly peeled himself off of the Slytherin and got to his feet. 

“You don’t touch her like that.” He sneered at Blaise, who was still on the floor wiping blood from his face. It looked like George hadn’t gotten off without damage. He also had a bloodied nose. “You don’t touch  _ anybody  _ like that. Do you hear me, Zabini? If I ever see you even touch her again…” 

“Come on, George,” You pulled on his arm. You wanted to vacate the scene before a professor took note of the fight that just broke out. He gathered his wand. You knew one thing about Blaise Zabini: he wasn’t a snitch. He had too much pride to admit George Weasley knocked him on his ass anyways. 

“Fine,” He finally gave into your prodding. He let you grasp his hand tightly and guide him back from the way you came. He was riled up. You didn’t look at him. You could hear him try to even out his breathing now. You wondered if he even knew that was in him. All that could be heard was your footsteps as you escaped the crime scene. The two of you walked in silence until you made it to the common room’s entrance. 

He paused outside the door. He was holding a sleeve to stop the flow of blood coming from his nose. It looked like it was letting up now. His robes were covered in his and Blaise’s blood. You sighed, taking in this image of him. You were thankful he came to back you up but knew this would only complicate things more. “I know you’re probably disgusted, (Y/N). I just reacted.”

“It’s okay. You alright there, tough guy?” He just chuckled and nodded. The blood seemed to come to a stop. You both took that as a sign to enter the common room. As expected, there was Fred, Lee, Katie, and Angelina. Exactly where they said they would be. Fred looked up to see who was there. He took you and George’s state with wide eyes. The rest of them were too quick to discover his blood caked shirt and the newly bruising skin on your throat. 

“What in the bloody hell happened to you two?” Fred looked bewildered. You couldn’t blame him. 

“I was defending (Y/N)’s honor.” George stated, cracking a smile at his twin.

“Apparently!” Fred began to laugh. He must have been comforted at George’s humor. You both began to inch towards the couches where they were all sat. Automatically, Katie offered the rag she had scurried off to retrieve. He began to clean his face and dab at his clothing. “So, what happened?”

George took this opportunity to tell his story - heroically. The group crooned in to listen to his tale with morbid fascination. While he did this, in the humorous way he did most things, you began to examine the bruising on your throat. Your fingertips brushed the bluish skin and you were surprised at how much that even hurt. You couldn’t go to Madame Pomfrey’s without ratting yourself out. This would just have to heal naturally. 

Finally, George finished up his tale. The rest of your friends looked as shocked as you had felt when you saw him tackle Blaise. Perhaps they too hadn’t seen Geroge as the type to be violent. You sat on the arm of the couch, which had isolated you from the gathering of the lot. You were still tenderly tracing the injury. George glanced up at you. He seemed to be riding the high of his pride. This was apparently a huge accomplishment. When he took inventory and found the bruising, he shifted to a concerned expression. It must have been pretty dark if he could notice it by the light of the fireplace. He didn’t make a fuss. He seemed to sense that it would upset you. 

“I’m tired,” You admitted quietly. Nobody asked if you were. It was true though. You were worn completely out now. After the rush of adrenaline had fizzled out, you were exhausted. There was nothing you wanted more than to curl up and fall into a deep sleep. Of course, that would prove to be hard considering you didn’t have the courage to go back to Slytherin headquarters. Your body slumped a bit. 

“Is this just an excuse to get back in my bed and drool all over?” He teased with a chuckle before immediately getting to his feet. You sat, dumbfounded. You weren’t asking for him to give up his bed again. “Come on then. You’ll want something a bit more comfortable.” You watched him make his way across the room before you realized he was serious. Angelina shooed you away with a wink. You rolled your eyes and got up, following George into the dormitories. Climbing the stairs felt like a challenge. You heaved yourself up each one, expending what little energy you had left in you. 

You sat on his bed lightly when you finally made it. It was still pretty early in the evening. You had privacy. You looked up at him shyly, mentally apologizing for taking his bed again. He hardly acknowledged the sheepish look on your face. Instead, he was digging through his things. “Where will you sleep?”

“On the floor again.”

“I can if you want your bed.”

“Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t sleep knowing you’re on the floor.”

“Okay…” He handed you the same sweater. The one with the initial “G” on it. You were relieved to have it back in your hands. You liked the way you sort of drowned in the material. You perked up slightly. “Please turn around?” He didn’t sass or try to say something witty. He just nodded, turning his back to you. 

You stripped your clothing off slowly. You were a little sore from the endeavor. You clad your body in his cozy sweater. Then the shorts held behind his back for you. He took that as the sign he could turn back around. You were pulling them over your hips as he did so. Then you busied yourself with folding your daytime clothing. The increasingly familiar scent of cedar and cinnamon encased your body. You smiled at him. He smiled widely at you, looking you up and down. “I wanted to say it the first time you wore it, but this is a very fitting look for you.”

You crawled under his blankets. You propped your back up against the headboard and patted beside you, inviting him to sit beside you. He took the invite. He sat beside you with a smile. For what felt like the first and millionth time: you analyzed his face. You softened when you stared into his eyes. “Thanks, George. For backing me up.” He nodded curtly, like it was no question that he had done it. You lifted your hand up to trace his features lightly but stopped just short of his skin. “You are very handsome, you know. The ‘just fought like a badass’ look really suits you.”

“Go to sleep,” He chuckled. You nestled down into the blankets, burrowing yourself deep into George’s bed. He remained sat up. He ran his fingers through your hair gently. It created a rhythm that lulled you asleep. You dozed off, wrapped in the scent of George, as he ran his fingers through your hair.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So so so sorry for the wait! Things in my life came up. Hope you all enjoyed the holidays! Thanks for your patience. :)

You woke to a small jolt of pain against your throat. Something was lightly grazing the bruising that had darkened overnight. Your eyes snapped open, alarmed now at the strange touch, The blur of the world sharpened as your eyes refocused. You locked eyes with the deep brown that you had begun to learn were George’s. You slumped back now, letting the tension fade from your body. He looked apologetic. 

“Sorry, darling,” He frowned. You didn’t call the pet name to attention. “It just looks painful is all.”

“It is,” You stated back in a grumpy tone. “Especially when you’re touching it while I sleep. Don’t do that.” His face fell. His facial features softened and you could tell he felt bad for waking you. And for causing you pain. 

“I apologize. For hurting you.” He confided in you before leaning in. The closeness of his face to yours made your cheeks flare up warmly. You couldn’t contain the scarlett blush across your cheeks and nose now. You could already tell it was as vibrant as any Weasley’s hair. You tensed again. “Just relax,” he pleaded with you. You nodded apprehensively and let your body release it’s rigidness. 

He leaned in again and lightly laid a trail of light kisses down your bruised throat. You winced but allowed him to do this. “I’m sorry this had to happen to you.” He whispered through each gentle kiss. “I should beat Zabini until he’s as black and blue as you are.” You sat and listened to his soft, sincere whispers. You wouldn’t admit this but you did not see George as the type to redeem your honor via fighting. You kept it to yourself. 

His body closed in on yours then. You scooted slightly to make room for him. You were surprised the two of you fit in it so well. He planted a kiss at the top of your head and sighed. He lifted his arm to you. There was a deep gash on his forearm from yesterday’s little run in with Blaise. You frowned at him. “I’m sorry that had to happen to you.”

He simply waved off your concern and smiled. “It’s a battle scar.” 

You simply rolled your eyes at that and let out a small laugh. You lifted your side of the blanket and bundled the two of you into it. You wished you could stay here. It appeared you had slept rather late into the morning because the sun was seeping into the dormitory and nobody else was there. “Did I sleep for long then?”

“Hm?” George murmured, absorbed in the coziness of the blanket. “No, it’s still rather early. The rest of the lads left early with Fred. Some sort of shenanigans.”  
“Why didn’t you go?” You asked pointedly.

“Couldn’t leave you here alone,” He stated reasonably and smiled. “Not that I’d ever want to.” You simply blush even more. Your eyes fixate on his face. You find yourself mentally tracing every curve, freckle, and dip in his skin. You smile with fondness when you reach the freckle, the only near his nose, that indicated this was George and not Fred. He looked at you intently and slightly leaned into so that his chest is pressed to yours. You briefly wonder if he will kiss you again. He didn’t. Instead he got so close that his lashes grazed your cheek. You could feel the smile spread across his face. He planted a firm kiss on your temple before leaning against you. 

You sit in the silence for a moment. You wanted to soak up this moment alone together. Time flew by as the two of you laid there in quietness. Then your stomach let out a disruptive snarl. The deafening sound made George cackle. His muscular body jeered with amusement. “You could have told me you were hungry, you know!” You would normally be mortified but George’s tremendous smile made you realize he wasn’t malicious towards you. You grinned at him.  
“Fine, fine,” You shook your head whilst your hand slicked a stray hair back. “I am hungry.”

“Excellent. Let’s get up.” You untangled yourself from the blanket cocoon with haste. For the second time since meeting George Weasley, you were scrambling to dress yourself in the Gryffindor dormitories. You chuckled to yourself as you tugged on your skirt. Your fingers raked through your hair. You were pleased to find that it was hardly disheveled. Still a tiny voice in you, who sounded much like your mother, reminded you that appearances were everything. You braid it back instead. 

George seemed so consumed with getting ready that he didn’t peer over at you. You were grateful that he didn’t. When he finally stood up tall in his red and gold, you thought he looked rather handsome. The noticeable wounds from last night made him seem more rugged. You committed this image of him to memory. Without many other words, the two of you made it down to the common room. You were met with the bright younger witch Hermione. She appeared incredulous when she saw George and then you. She shook her head, “Oh honestly! Fred you must stop bringing girls up to bed with you. Your mother is losing patience.”

George’s lips widened with amusement at this, “Hermione, I’m George.”

Hermione looked skeptical and then peered at you beside him. She seemed to not believe him until she took note of the green and silver. Then she seemed to change tune. “Hm, I reckon so. Fred seems more keen about Hufflepuff girls.” She then studied you once more. “I didn’t realize you’d taken to fancying a Slytherin.” She seemed to realize her miscalculation right away and hurriedly extended her hand, red in the cheeks. “I’m Hermione Granger, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”  
You smiled with humor, though you felt your inner shy girl beg to run away. You shook her hand firmly. “It’s a pleasure, Hermione Granger. I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” You could tell she already knew your name. She smiled politely at you. 

George made his way past her, “We’ll be going now…” You walked beside him quietly. He paused before the door before glancing back at Hermione. “And don’t you dare go telling my mum about this.” Hermione rolled her eyes. You passed through the entrance. You laughed softly, mostly to yourself. 

“What? You don’t want your mum to know about me?”

“You’re silly. She already knows about you.”

“Then why not tell her?”

“I reckon she wouldn’t find it proper to have a girl in my bed. She might pull me straight from Hogwarts.” You grinned, imagining a woman rushing into the Great Hall and snagging her son by the ear. You laughed, then shrugged and nodded. The two of you were scaling a particular moving staircase. The motion once made you sick but you were used to it by then. “Besides, I would like her to meet you before we get a reputation.”

“I’d really like to meet her too,” You stated, your voice warm and sweet like honey. You curled a stray strand of hair around your finger and released it. 

“She’s been sending owl after owl about meeting you,” He stated. “Which reminds me, she wants to make you as comfortable as possible when you come to stay. Do you prefer any particular foods?”

“She shouldn’t go out of her way!” You stated, guilty that Mrs. Weasley would fuss over you. “Anything she prepares is just fine.”

“Well, alright. Let me know if you change your mind. She wants you to enjoy Christmas with us. Says it’ll scare you off from ever visiting again.”

“How bad could it really be?” You were laughing.

“(Y/N),” He looked at you seriously. “I have five brothers and a sister. I mean, have you seen Fred and I’s chaos? Imagine that.”

“That…” You traveled into thought for a moment. “That sounds incredibly fun.”

“What about that sounds fun to you?” He had a grin planted on his face. 

“Everything. I don’t even have siblings!” 

By then you had reached the Great Hall. You felt a stir of worry nibble at your stomach. You tried not to let the furrow in your brow deepen nor the corners of your lips dip. You knew your time with George was near the end. Then, you’d have to sit at the green table of Slytherin folk. Not that you would normally mind. But yesterday’s events made you apprehensive. You parted from George’s side with an internal groan. He left you with a kiss on your forehead. 

You lifted your chin high and walked in. You joined your table without making eye contact with anybody. You seated yourself alone and silently cursed yourself for forgetting a book. Careful not to let on your fear, you crossed your ankles and piled food onto your plate. You glanced sideways. Blaise was seated with Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy. You assumed this meant that even Pansy, a friend to you on some level, was no longer associating with you. Blaise’s lip looked a bit busted up and a bruise on his neck but overall, he looked fine. A moment too late, you caught his gaze. He stared back, emotionless, and then went back to his activities. You sat with that for a moment. Maybe he finally was giving up. 

You were so wrong. Your classes were filled with snide snickers and hushed comments. It turned out that Blaise was telling everybody in Slytherin house that you were sleeping with both twins in order to “get over him”. You snarled at every student ballsy enough to ask you to confirm this. Rage had filled your body until it overflowed all around you. Being that you were just a year older than Blaise, you suspected that he was in potions for his last class. 

After attending your charms class, you lie in wait in a corridor over from Snape’s classroom. You were careful not to catch his attention this time. Another detention would surely reach your parent’s attention. You stood, body rigid, with your arms crossed tight over your chest. Your wand hung from your fingers. You eyed it, hoping it would ensure justice. Soon.

You stood there for mere moments. It felt like hours. You felt your body freeze with anticipation. The revenge tasted so sweet already. You were practically drooling. The sound of footsteps made your ears perk. Then, his voice. He was talking with another student. Good. He’s not alone. Even better! A small cluster of Slytherin fourth years rounded the corner. Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy… and Blaise. A group of Gryffindors weren’t far behind. Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom. Your eyes narrowed. He didn’t even notice you. “I tell you, man. She’s crazy about me. Like, obsessed.”  
Your wand whipped out and you muttered, “Diffindo!” Your wand was pointed at his trousers. On command, they tore. He looked down. He looked shocked. Hardly aware of the damage or the perpetrator. Neville gasped and Ron was already laughing. You smiled with satisfaction as his mortification became clearer and clearer. He looked up at you.

“You bitch! You did this, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You feigned innocence. “But hey, Blaise, you might want to sew those up. Looks like you’ve got a tear.”

“I am getting real tired of you, Y/L/N…” He was scowling, his eyes narrowed. He raised his wand to retaliate. Before he could, there came a stern voice.  
“I’ve seen quite enough, you two.” Mcgonagall.

How lucky.


	12. Chapter 12

You froze on the spot, your wand still raised in the air. You turned around slowly after regaining the feeling in your legs. Professor Snape was one thing, but Professor McGonagall struck fear straight into your heart. You had managed five years without ever crossing her. Today marked the first time ever that you had managed to get on her bad side. You were, to put it nicely, scared to your wits end. 

You finally looked her in the eye. The color drained from your face. Your lips were sealed tight. You lowered your wand to your side and stood there shyly. She stared you down with the sternest look you had ever seen. If it were possible, all of the heat bled out of your body. 

“Mr. Zabini, Ms. (Y/L/N),” She stated with authority, “I have never, in all of my years at Hogwarts, seen two students as horribly behaved as you do together.” Translation: she knew of your ongoing quarrels. “It is with great dissatisfaction that you two will be joining me for detention for the next five evenings.”

“But-” Blaise stated to combat her punishment. 

“And you will also be speaking to Headmaster Dumbledore immediately,” As she said that, you shrunk into yourself even further. 

“Prof-” Blaise tried to intervene once more.

“And this incident will result in the loss of twenty points for Slytherin. Do you understand?” You nodded your head curtly. “Good. Miss (Y/L/N), I am particularly appalled by your behavior. This is so unlike you. I’d advise you to spend a little less time meddling with those Weasley twins. Now. Follow me.”

At the mention of the Weasley twins, a few of the students witnessing this snickered. Likely due to the circulating rumors of you. You would normally have glowered but your paled face did not have the courage to look even remotely mean. Your head hung so heavily that you could not lift it to meet anybody’s eye.

Both of you obeyed her command and followed a little over three feet behind her. Blaise was fuming. He was trying to argue with McGonagall. He was trying to lay all of the blame on you and how troubled you were. You sneered at him. She simply stated, “Mr. Zabini, I know fully well that you have provoked your fellow peer several times.”

Blaise silenced himself after that. He knew he was caught. He was silent for the rest of the walk to Dumbledore’s office. Your stomach flipped when the three of you stood just outside the door. It felt like you were marching towards your inevitable death. You braced yourself. If your parents got even the slightest wind of this, you would have to hear about it. To put it nicely: You could say goodbye to every single holiday break and summer until you graduate. They were stern. And making a fool of the family name was a very bad idea to invest in. You gnawed on the inside of your cheek as you waited. 

The door opened and McGonagall ushered the two of you in. Blaise let you go first. Not because he was a gentleman but that he wanted to relish his last moments before having to personally have to face the headmaster. Then it was the two of you standing before Headmaster Dumbledore himself. You felt shaky in the knees now. You had always been essentially invisible - to bring attention to yourself five years into your education made you muse that perhaps he didn’t even know who you were. You hoped with every fiber that you were correct. 

“Ahh, Mister Zabini,” The elderly man greeted, “Miss Y/L/N, please come in and have a seat.” Apparently he was aware of your existence and even more surprising, he hardly sounded angry. In fact, he addressed them as if he were among friends. How odd. You took a seat at his request. 

“Now, I have heard a rumor,” Dumbledore admitted. Your heart sank. A rumor? About me? “That the two of you have been quite destructive. Is this true?”

“Y...yes, Professor, that is true,” You admitted. The cold feeling continued to creep into your every fiber. Blaise glanced at you, sighed, and nodded in agreement. 

“Whatever could be the issue,” Dumbledore reasoned loftily. “Perhaps just a young lovers’ quarrel?”

“What?” Both you and Zabini stated in utter confusion. You didn’t have to look at him to know his face had knotted up just as yours had. 

Dumbledore’s eyebrows raised - looking both surprised and inquisitive, “Have I gotten the rumors wrong?” He chortled softly and simply smiled. “My apologies, perhaps I am meddling in the wrong type of student affairs.”

“Sir, you must be hearing something wrong then,” Blaise agreed. “She and I have never been a couple by any means.”

“He’s right,” You said. It was the first time you and Blaise had agreed in a very long time. 

“Hm,” Dumbledore mused. He considered your words without much concern. “While that is what you say, I cannot help but sense some affections between your bitterness?”

“Hardly,” Blaise hissed. His nose wrinkled. You glared at him. Rude. 

“No sir, I believe you have it all wrong. I hold no affections for Blaise Zabini.”

“No, Professor, you see she fancies the likes of a Weasley.” He spat out the word ‘Weasley’ as if it were a rancid taste in his mouth. 

“And what’s wrong with that?” You snapped back at Blaise with heat rising to replace the cold you had previously felt. 

“Well, their secondhand robes for starte-”

“That’s enough,” The headmaster interjected, stoking the flames of their argument. “Obviously the two of you hold some grudges against one another. For the sake of Slytherin house, and your family names,” he added looking directly at Blaise who seemed to shrink at the mention, “I will have to ask that the both of you move past this behavior.”

“Yes sir,” You said, agreeing at once. You glanced at Blaise, mentally willing him to do the same. There was a moment of silence. He nodded begrudgingly. 

Dumbledore brightened behind his half-moon spectacles. It was clear he was pleased with this answer. He nodded to the two of them. His lips curled up in a smile. “Now, it is customary that I write home to your families and inform them of your behavior at Hogwarts. However, should you comply with my requests, the letter will be waived for this particular situation.”

You dropped your tense shoulders and the relief was immediate. ”I’ll do anything you ask,” You stated so keenly. You truly did not want your parents to get wind of your romance with George Weasley. It would send your father into rage and your mother into disappointment. They’d whisk you home at the drop of a hat. They had the money to simply send you off to Ilvermorny if you did not behave. You would not put it past them, either, Anything to preserve the family name and status. 

“I am delighted by your eagerness, Miss (Y/L/N),” Dumbledore smiled widely at you. “You will still attend detentions for the next five evenings, as Professor McGonnagal has arranged for you. Whatever punishment she sees fit will be in place. However, I would also like to see the two of you mend your burned bridge. It would be, with great thrill, that I see the two of you seated at meals together and perhaps spend a bit of time studying.”

“But sir-” Blaise stated hopelessly. He cut himself off, unsure of how to combat this. He glanced over at you. He seemed desperate for your help but you were just as dumbstruck. Surely, you would drop the argument but having a “friendship” with Blaise just wouldn’t work. You both knew that. “We couldn’t have much of anything in common.”

“Nonsense, Mr. Zabini,” The elderly wizard assured your Slytherin peer. “I saw the two of you seated together a handful of times just last term. Clearly, you’ve managed to be friends before. I am not asking you two to be as thick as thieves. I would just like my Slytherin students to get along.”

You slumped back in your seat. Your jaw slackened. Your teeth gnawed your inner cheek. You weighed your options. A.) Refuse. It’s likely a detailed letter would be sent home to your family’s estate and your family would, without doubt, send for you to come home. If they hadn’t caught wind of your reputation as a whore, you might get off a bit easier. Either way, they would make it their personal mission that you did not disgrace the family name.. Or… B.) You could resurrect your connection with Blaise. It wouldn’t have to be a real friendship. But you would have to try to get along with Blaise Zabini and therefore, his cohort. Then again, he was a rather secluded individual so perhaps that would not be too horrible. You doubted the two of you could get through a meal without name calling. You sighed, then glanced at Blaise. Ultimately, you decided, it was up to him. You waited.

“Fine, I can do that.” Blaise remarked. He sounded regretful to inform the headmaster and you of this fact. You nodded, agreeing.

“Very good.” Dumbledore smiled. “Now, off you go. Professor McGonnagal will be waiting for you two.” You excused yourself, walking in unison out of the office.


End file.
